Someone To Blame
by Colby'sGirl19
Summary: Colby is no stranger to pain. A soldier turned FBI agent he sees himself as invincible, until a horrific accident proves otherwise. This story follows Colby as he struggles to come to terms with recent events and the secrets revealed in their wake - AU
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

JASON GRANGER sighed miserably, it had been a very _long _day and it was only getting longer. "_Sir_," he tried again patiently, "you asked us to fix your brakes and we did. If the engine failed that's not _our_ fault." If it hadn't been an extremely slow month for the garage, Jason would have told the customer what he could do with his engine, and it wasn't anything pretty. _Why does my garage always attract the nutcases_, he thought savagely as he moved around the counter to face the man before him square on. "Now," he tried more tolerantly, "we are more than happy to look at your engine for you, but it's going to _cost_." Jason watched wearily as the customer's unsmiling face grew a nasty shade of puce at the word cost.

"Now see here!" the customer blustered loudly causing Julio, a fellow car repairman, to look up from the car he was fixing. "I paid for a service, one, your garage and _staff_," he gave a pointed look at Julio, "didn't deliver. Now _son,_ I demand to speak to the man in charge here!"

Waving Julio to get on with fixing the convertible he was bending over, Jason turned back to the difficult customer. He was dressed in a cowboy hat and boots, and Jason got the distinct impression that he usually bullied others to get what he wanted. _Well bully for you_, Jason thought as he feigned patience once more. "I've already _told_ you _I am _the manager sir, and I would care if you didn't take that tone with _me_ or _my_ staff_._"

Backing off slightly at the barely concealed aggression in Jason's voice, the man seemed to rethink his approach. Removing his Stetson he flashed Jason what he assumed was meant to be a look of embarrassment. _Oh here we go,_ Jason thought suspiciously as he folded his arms, ignoring the grease marks he made on his clean white t-shirt. "My apologies to you and your staff. It was my fault really, my wife told me to go to the Henson's, but I told her no, I said 'Miriam, those good boys at Granger's would take care of us'. It's just a pity I'll have to go and tell her that I was wrong." The customer's voice was laced with regret as he gave a 'what can you do' shrug and turned to face the exit.

Rubbing his face in irritation Jason thought, _great I could really do without this right now._ A fair assessment since they lived in a small town and the Henson's were his main rivals, not that you could call the shoddy work they did competition. "You are right sir," he agreed, making the angry customer smile smugly in believing he was about to back down. _Fat chance, _he thought stubbornly. Even though it'd been a slow month, there was no reason to back down, _yet_. "I know Mr Henson and his son personally and I am more than willing to tell them to pick your car up immediately!" Jason grabbed the telephone receiver for full dramatic effect. "They will probably give a better quote on the engine than I would." He smiled guiltily at the customer as he slowly began to punch the number in. "But you came to me for quality service and that is what you got. You asked for working brakes and your brakes are now impeccable are they not?" Jason asked holding the receiver out towards the now wavering customer.

"Well sure..." The man agreed reluctantly.

"So let us now repair your engine so she runs smoothly," Jason replied effortlessly and with passion as if he was doing the customer a humongous favour. "Then when you get home you can tell your wife that _she _was wrong. That yes, Henson and son are cheaper, but that Granger's guarantees quality. We can also get her back to you in two days, what do you say?" Jason knew he was playing the man a bit strong, but something told him if he had understated it, it would have gone right over the man's head. And, let's face it, Jason really needed the money.

"Ok, two days and impeccable quality," the man demanded, thumping his fist on the appointment book in front of Jason for emphasis.

"May I call you a cab sir?" Jason asked rhetorically, and grinned for the first time that day as he held out the receiver and dialled the local cab firm. _Perhaps I can close up shop now,_ Jason thought with relief.

*break*

WITH THE man finally gone, Julio grabbed two beers from the small fridge out back, and gave Jason one as he joined him on the filthy patio furniture he'd salvaged from a yard sale two years ago. "You were amazing amigo," Julio said enthusiastically around the mouth of his beer bottle.

Instead of answering, Jason saluted Julio before taking a pull from his own beer. Julio was a good lad, but importantly a hard worker. "It's getting late," he said finally, "You'd better finish that beer and head home before your mother threatens to call the cops again." Jason smiled momentarily remembering the way Julio's mother had accused him of using her son for slave labour. Jason had known Julio's mother, Adriana, from high school so he was used to her outbursts.

"I'm glad you find it funny," Julio replied breaking into Jason's thoughts, "If she knew you'd given me a beer she'd kill you and then come after _me,_" he mocked only semi-seriously.

"Right squirt, I forget you're only...seventeen. Don't you have other delinquents you should be hanging out with instead of working all summer at a mechanic's?" Jason replied seriously. It was something he asked Julio every year just to make sure he wasn't keeping the boy from something better.

"Of course not amigo," Julio snorted in response. When Julio was twelve he used to sit on his heels opposite the garage and everyday he would watch Jason work, bubbling with barely concealed curiosity. When Jason realised he wasn't going to go away, he'd gone and sat down next to Julio and asked where his parents were. Julio had been a smartass back then as well, Jason remembered ruefully. As soon as Jason had realised Julio was Adriana's son, he'd cracked and put the kid to work. It was about the time his younger brother Colby had died in Afghanistan. Julio had reminded him so much of Colby he couldn't turn the kid away and to be perfectly frank he enjoyed the company.

"You have that look." Julio broke the silence that Jason hadn't realised he'd lapsed into.

"What look?" Jason asked, confusion in his hazel eyes.

"Your Murtaugh, 'I'm too old for this shit' look," Julio replied quoting his favourite movie 'Lethal Weapon'.

"Ah that look," Jason nodded knowingly, and after a moment's pause, He said, "I am you know."

"Are what?" Julio replied quizzically.

"Too old for this shit," he grinned wolfishly. "Now scram kiddo before your ma comes at me with another frying pan."

Julio drained his beer before grabbing his rucksack and hurrying home. _Good kid,_ Jason thought sadly as more memories of his younger brother Colby came flooding back. More specifically how the last time he'd seen him he'd told Colby he was dead to him. _Great, _he thought, _the good old days. _This was turning into the night from hell. Getting up Jason completed his routine night checks before turning the garage's main lights off and headed upstairs to the dingy flat above.

*break*

IT WAS two am when Jason started suddenly in his sleep. He'd fallen asleep in his work overalls, but more importantly he noticed that he was drenched in sweat. For a moment he just lay there, letting the images from his nightmares roll over him in waves. It was only after he sat up that he realised his cell phone was vibrating violently on his night stand. "H...Hel...lo?" he spoke into the phone, his voice thick with sleep and confusion.

"Jason Granger?" A deep male voice spoke in his ear, Jason detected a note of worry and urgency in his tone.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he replied, "That's me."

"This is Special Agent Don Eppes of the FBI. I'm calling on behalf of your brother Colby Granger he-"

"I'm sorry what?" Jason cut in before the man could continue. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" he asked suddenly awake and with a hint of aggression in his voice.

"Joke?" the man replied mystified, "No sir, there is nothing to joke about. Your brother was involved in an incident earlier this evening..." The man trailed off, he was clearly struggling with what he was trying to say.

Jason pinched himself hard just in case he was in some new perverse nightmare. But when the pain flooded his arm, as he hoped it would, he knew that he was awake and there was a chance he would see his brother's idiotic grin again. That was only one of the many things Jason missed. The little things that made his brother...Colby. Suddenly, Jason was seized with a longing that was so unbearable it left him emotionally spent. He lost himself in these thoughts for a moment whilst the officer on the other end of the phone struggled to find the right words. All of a sudden, Jason realised what the man was trying to say. "Incident?" he asked the man, desperation flooding his voice. Was the man trying to tell Jason that his brother had really been alive these past years only to take him away again? It was as if Jason was watching his brother slip away from him all over again and the helplessness of the situation cut him deeper than any knife.

"He was shot in the back at close range," the man replied, suddenly finding the right words. _Probably due to the desperation in my voice_, Jason mused. "He's at the hospital, they are about to take him into surgery now. He's a fighter, the doctors are confident that he should make it through the surgery, but there are no guarantees he will make it through the night..." The guy trailed off as the pain in his voice washed over Jason.

"You knew my brother well?" Jason asked bewildered.

"I'd trust him with my life," the agent responded without hesitation and the misery in the officer's voice rolled over him in waves. After an age of silence he said, "Hello?"

"Sorry," Jason replied when he realised he sat frozen to the bed. He really wanted to believe what the voice on the phone was telling him, but the realist inside him said there'd been some kind of mistake and stomped on any hope he'd had until that moment. "My brother's dead," Jason blurted out bluntly and silently cursed himself at the tremble in his voice.

"What?" replied the officer on the other end, "sorry, but what?"

"Colby, Colby Granger is dead and has been for five years," Jason replied, his voice thick with emotion, but steadier now he'd gotten the words out. Angry at the hope that everything he'd thought was true was in fact a lie. That somehow there'd been a terrible mistake. That his brother was alive, although barely, if the man was to be believed.

"No, there must have been a mistake," the officer replied, almost as if he'd read Jason's mind, "Colby Granger is here, in _LA_, he joined my team five years ago. He's been working for the FBI since."

"LA," Jason replied idiotically. "Tell me where and I'll be there as soon as possible."_He needs me,_ he had almost added, _and I need him_. "Don't let him die sir," Jason said more forcefully than he'd intended.

"Not on my watch," the agent replied, however, the uncertainty in his voice betrayed him.

After Jason had gotten all the details from Don Eppes of the FBI, he had hung up. _FBI,_ he thought, _LA._ It was too much to think about so instead, Jason worked on instinct. Moving busily about the small flat he gathered what merger possessions he would need over the next few days. Next, he threw a few clothes in his duffel bag with everything else and gave the flat one last glance before climbing into the driver's seat of his '73 Dodge Charger. _Hang on Col I'm coming,_ was the last thing he thought before he put his car in gear and tore out of the garage parking lot.

*Five Hours Earlier*

COLBY WATCHED the rain stream down the windshield of his black Ford as Liz spoke enthusiastically about some gossip she had read in one of the many magazines that were now littering the passenger floor of his car. "What?" Liz asked mid sentence as he reached over, pushed some loose hair behind her ear, and then cradled her face with his hand.

"Nothing, well, it's just I love your passion." Colby smiled at her making her beam prettily in response, "And I can't wait to hear the rest, but I'd best go inside before the store closes."

"Ok," she replied as she turned her head, kissed his palm, and then his wrist before settling on his lips. "You best get some condoms whilst you're in there. You're getting lucky tonight, Mr Granger," she said sexily when she came up for air and for a moment all the blood rushed from his head.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, his voice husky with desire, "Won't be more than a minute, but if I'm not back in five, well...just wait longer." Unbuckling his seatbelt, Colby reluctantly left the warmth of Liz and the car to dash into the nearest store. It had only been a short trip from the car to the store, but as he stepped inside he was drenched from head to toe. Shaking some of the rain out of his short blond hair, Colby wiped his boots on the small welcome mat and surveyed the store.

Since it was late at night there were only one or two others inside. He smiled with pity at one woman who was arguing with her Goth daughter. Colby guessed she was about sixteen because like most teenagers he'd met, she argued that her mother just didn't understand her.

At the back of the store Colby found the condoms. It wasn't his first time so Colby acquired the ones he needed quickly before heading over to the ATM in the corner. The mother frowned disapprovingly at Colby's purchase as he passed. Colby just winked back as he pulled his American Express card from his wallet. Making the usual checks Colby inserted his credit card and made the withdrawal. He and Liz had just shared a romantic meal and he needed some change for later in the week.

Money in hand Colby headed for the counter so he could hurry back to the comfort of Liz and the car. "That'll be ten fifty two," the checkout girl sighed exasperated as the man in front of Colby struggled to find his wallet.

It was only after a moment that Colby noticed that the man in front was reaching for something in the back of his pants. Instinctively Colby reached under his coat feeling for his Glock only to remember too late that he'd left it in the glove compartment of his car. Liz had insisted that they leave their guns behind when they went to enter the restaurant. "But this is LA!" he had informed her sternly to which she laughed and told him that despite popular belief it was possible to get though a meal without the need for guns. He'd conceded of course. _Yeah, you're able to get through a meal, but not through buying condoms, nice one LA,_ he thought bitterly now as he watched the man in front reveal his gun and point it at the checkout girl.

Behind Colby a woman screamed hysterically making the gunman turn around quickly and back towards the door which he proceeded to lock. "Nobody leaves until I get what I want!" The man shook the gun for dramatic effect. _Clearly an amateur,_ Colby thought as he sized up the situation. He could easily over power the man, but the suspect would most likely get off a few shots first.

Instead Colby reached inside his coat pocket, slowly so as not to draw attention to himself, and pulled his cell phone out before shifting it behind his back and dialling 911. When he was confident dispatch had picked up his call, he hid it on the counter, and said loudly and audibly. "Hey man, these people are innocent why not let them go and give me the gun?"

"Stay back! All of you get over by the counter and shut up!"

Colby had known what the man would say before he'd replied, but he had to get as much information across as he could for the dispatcher before the man found his cell phone. "Look man, I'm Colby Granger," he said, placing a hand over his heart in what he hoped was in a non threatening manner. "Whatever you need I'll try and get it for you. But first you have to let the other four go. OK?"

"Well Colby," the suspect sneered, "SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN WITH THE OTHERS!" The man waved the gun to show Colby he meant what he said.

"Ok," Colby raised his hands above his head to show the man he meant no harm before sitting down next to the others. "There are women and children here man; why not let them go eh?"

"What part of shut up don't you understand?" the man replied angrily as he ran his hands through his greasy hair before pointing it back at the checkout girl. "What's your name?" he asked coming closer and making her whimper harder. She was not the only one who had started crying. The mother he'd noticed earlier was sobbing and clutching her daughter whom was clutching her mother just as hard, all arguments apparently forgotten. The other man looked calm enough to Colby although, he seemed to be mumbling to himself. It was only after a minute that Colby realised he was praying.

"Cheryl," the checkout girl finally replied pulling Colby's attention back to the gunman.

"What's your name?" Colby asked gently attracting the gunman's attention back to him and raised his hands above his head once more.

"Sam," the suspect admitted reluctantly after a moment's hesitation.

"Sam?" Colby enquired in the hopes of a surname and sure enough, Sam responded this time without thought.

"Jackson. You seem overly nosey," Sam replied leaning close and shoving the gun under Colby's nose. If he hadn't been packed between the checkout girl and the mother he'd have wrestled the gun off him.

Instead Cheryl whimpered harder and she sobbed, "Oh my God," drawing the attention back onto herself.

"I want all the money on the premises or I'm going to get real nasty. Ok?" Sam told the hysterical Cheryl as he kept the gun pointed at Colby's forehead. Cheryl only nodded weakly at Sam. Suddenly the phone on the back wall rang, shocking everyone, but Colby. _Ah, so the police are here,_ he thought, _nice timing_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

BACK IN the car park, Liz Warner yawned deeply as the rain continued to splash heavily against the windshield of Colby's black Ford. The radio was playing a nondescript melody that washed over her in the diming light. She felt the tiredness in her bones as she stifled another yawn. It'd been a long day, hell, it had been a long couple of months what with David leaving for Washington and Charlie and Amita leaving for Cambridge.

At first it had been hard to pick up the slack, but somehow they'd managed it, and today they had finally secured the conviction of a known gunrunner with an affinity for selling cop killing bullets to LA's lowlifes. Liz practically drifted off in ecstasy as the image of the bastard being sent down for life came back to her. Together the team had worked day and night to secure a victory. Colby had even gone undercover for two months.

The memory of Colby's face as he'd prepared himself for the mission came rushing back to her. It had bothered her then, and it was still bothering her now. Colby had once confessed to her that he loved the deceit of undercover work, the look in a mark's eyes when they've realised they've been conned. That half the time he wanted them to run, just for the fun of giving chase. "It made for a good workout," he would joke afterwards. But this time had been different. This time he'd looked cold, and detached as if he had lost interest in the job. At the time she'd assumed it was because David wouldn't be there to back him up. But it'd been two months, and even the victory in court this morning hadn't done anything to alleviate his mood.

Liz closed her eyes, and remembered the day she'd walked into the small FBI changing rooms, Colby was so big compared to her, and he seemed to occupy all the space. He didn't notice her immediately, so she had stood in the doorway, watching as he sat on the bench, head bowed and legs stretched out in front. "How are you holding up?" she'd asked him eventually, when she felt the silence had stretched too long.

"I'm coping," he'd said without even looking at her.

Moving to the lockers in front of him, she'd leaned back and surveyed him in the dim light. "You don't look ok," she observed, causing his eyes to snap to hers.

"It's a difficult assignment. There is a lot at stake," he'd reasoned, but whether he was reasoning with her or himself she couldn't tell.

"I'm worried about you," she'd told him bluntly, causing him to stand up and step towards her.

Her pulse had raced as he'd leaned over her and placed both hands flat on the locker door either side of her head. "I'll be fine," he'd smiled devilishly at her, and felt dizzy from the desire that he arose in her.

They hadn't been dating at the time, so she'd nodded slightly before bobbing under his arm and racing for the door. "Be careful," she'd told him seriously, before dashing from the room.

Pushing the thoughts of his haunted face from her memory, Liz thought instead of how handsome and dishevelled he'd looked framed in her small doorway about a month ago. Colby had been undercover for about a month, and they'd gathered enough evidence to arrest the suspect for gun trafficking. But Don wanted to find the cop killer bullets, and had commanded Colby to stay undercover. The strain and frustration that had lined Colby's face as he leaned on her door frame, made her want to reach for him. Without asking any questions, Liz had taken his hand in hers and drew him into her small house.

Later that night as he'd gotten up to leave, he'd grabbed her mid sentence and kissed her passionately on the lips. At first Liz had been startled, but eventually she'd put her arms around his neck deepening the kiss and arched her body to meet his. When they eventually broke apart, she'd felt breathless and dizzy as her body ached for his warmth. But instead of kissing her again, Colby had walked to the door. "When this is all over I'm taking you out," he'd stated with heat-filled eyes.

Liz tried to shake her lustful thoughts by checking the digital clock on the dash. Colby had almost been gone ten minutes. _Maybe there's a long queue,_ she rationalised as the radio played a particularly sleepy song, causing her to sigh contentedly and sink lower in her seat. It was getting late and she was fighting to stay awake.

The meal that she and Colby had shared earlier had been the one he'd promised that night after the kiss, and it had been everything, and more than she'd expected it would be. However, now she just wanted to go home and have a nice long bath, preferably with Colby massaging her back. Absently, Liz rubbed her aching shoulder and felt the knots tighten under her fingers from the awkwardness of the position.

Eventually she gave up on her shoulder, figuring she was doing more harm than good and noticed that the rain had eased a little since Colby had left. Unhooking her seatbelt, Liz twisted in her seat to get a better look at the door that Colby had disappeared into earlier. The door was shut tight against the rain.

Sighing in exasperation, Liz flopped back into her chair once more. In the distance she could hear the faint alarm of several police sirens. Turning the radio off, Liz raked her hands through her long brown hair and listened to the small drumming of rain on the windshield, all tiredness forgotten.

Reaching for her bag amongst the discarded magazines, Liz searched for her cell amongst the large amount of crap she had in there. _Note to self: clean out bag, _she told herself sternly as she eventually found her phone at the bottom. Once she'd finally gotten through to Colby's phone, however, the line was busy. _Who could he possibly be talking too?_ Liz wondered curiously as she pushed her seat back and stretched out her long legs.

Just as she was about to drift off again, a patrol car came tearing down the road towards her, closely followed by a black Chevy Suburban and SWAT van. Confused, Liz followed the cars with her eyes as they stopped and formed a tight ring around the entrance of the small shop that Colby had disappeared into earlier.

As realization began to dawn, Liz's heart leapt into her throat. It was only when she was half way to the squad car that she realised she was out of the car and crossing the small parking lot at lightning speed, headed straight for the small barricade some officers were in the process of setting up.

Don and Nikki got out of Don's black Chevy Suburban and started when they saw her coming towards them, so fast that the puddles jumped and splashed at her violently as she all, but ran towards them. "What's going on?" Liz demanded when she reached them.

Don was dressed in a rumpled shirt and jeans, whilst Nikki, as ever, was dressed immaculately in a pressed suit. Both looked pale and distressed in the faded light of a nearby street lamp. Liz watched as they shared a look before turning back to her. They were obviously deciding how much to tell her, that couldn't be good.

Eventually, Don ran a hand through his messy hair and shrugged. "Dispatch got a call from this address. They heard a robbery in process and alerted the precinct," Don explained as Tim King, the FBI SWAT team leader, approached them. "When they heard someone address themselves as 'Colby Granger' they ran the name through the database. The system immediately alerted me and here we are."

Don had only been the Special Agent in Charge for two months, but the toll was visibly taking it out of him, he looked exhausted. These days Don seemed to be chained to his office, buried under the mountain of paper work swamping his desk, with no end in sight. Liz suspected that some nights Don fell asleep at his desk and if his rumpled appearance was anything to go by this was one of those nights. Thinking about it, this was the first time Liz had seen him out of the office in a month.

He wasn't the only one to look shattered. With David in Washington, Don had temporarily put Nikki in charge, after Liz and Colby had rejected the position, and ever since Nikki had been inundated with paper work over the case they'd settled this morning in court. A couple of days ago Nikki had confided in her that they'd better get a conviction after all the paper work the case had produced. "We should enter the paperwork as evidence," she'd joked, "after all it's a _crime_ that I'm the only one who has to suffer."

"What's the situation?" Tim asked, breaking into Liz's thoughts and shot her a look of appreciation. She was dressed in a tight Japanese wrap that hugged her curves, and stilettos that made her legs appear to go on forever.

Colby had whistled when he'd seen her earlier and shook his head in appreciation. "Damn I've wanted you," he'd said, his bluntness making her blush. He hadn't looked so bad either in a dress shirt and tie. "You clean up nicely yourself," she'd told him as he opened the passenger door chivalrously and watched her legs as she folded them into the car. Dragging her mind back to the situation at hand, Liz noticed they were all staring at her, worry shining in their eyes.

"Colby's inside," Liz said trying to remain calm, but the strain in her voice betrayed her. Folding her arms across her chest, Liz shivered uncontrollably as the rain seemed to slam into her in time with her racing heart.

"Here, take my jacket," Don shrugged off his coat and wrapped it over her shoulders whilst Nikki struggled to get an umbrella up over them.

"Thanks Don," Liz replied, forlorn as she pulled the coat firmly around her, wishing it was Colby's arms instead. She almost suffocated from fear for Colby as the situation properly dawned on her.

"Don't worry he's going to be alright," Tim put his arm around her and pulled Liz to him. Liz burrowed her face into his shoulder to hide the sudden tears in her eyes. _He has to be ok,_ she tried to tell herself.

Nikki shot her a look of concern as she pulled a laptop from its case and began to set it up on the hood of Don's car, "From what dispatch told us on the way here there is one gunman named Samuel Jackson," Nikki told them, ignoring Liz's tears as she knew Liz would want her to. Besides, Tim was comforting her adequately enough, although Liz couldn't help, but wish it was Colby's hand that was gently rubbing the small of her back. "He has one prior for assault when he and some others protested the use of a certain cancer drug used in a drug trial that didn't save his wife's life."

"So he has a history of violence," Don said, taking the umbrella from Nikki as she continued to pull up images and documents on the laptop.

"Was there anything else suspicious that may have led the man to grab a gun and rob his local Kmart?" Tim asked Nikki, who was now tapping away furiously on her laptop, panic making her sloppy.

"According to his bank records he's maxed out. He hasn't made a rent payment this year and the banks have put a red alert out on him, Jackson's probably days away from being given the boot. Maybe a week or two tops before he's forced to declare bankruptcy," Nikki turned back to them. Liz failed to feel anything but hate for the man as Nikki pulled up his mug shot. Samuel Jackson was just another average looking white American with greasy hair. He could have been anyone. _But he isn't _just_ anyone_ she thought angrily, _he's the man standing between me and Colby._

Despite her intense feelings of hate, Liz could see no signs of malice in the mug shot, just the look of torture of one who's loved and lost. _Perhaps the same look that I have now,_ Liz thought, but caught herself before she went down that path, _I haven't lost him yet! _She thought fiercely.

"Tim, I need you and your men to cover the building, set up a couple of snipers. I want fingers off triggers till we know the situation better. Remind them that there's one of our own in there," Don said as he surveyed the shop intently. "I want them poised and ready to go if I give the signal," Don added fiercely.

"No problem Don," Tim let go of Liz and she instantly missed his warmth. The jacket had done little to help with her numbness, although it was hard to tell now whether she was numb from the cold or fear. Tim King left them and automatically began to organise his men. He acted swiftly and competently, and for a minute they watched him work. It didn't take SWAT long before they had building surrounded and snipers set up on the roof.

"The barricades are up; fortunately there aren't many pedestrians around. My men are keeping the reporters back as best they can. Meanwhile the 'Hostage Negation Team' is on their way. They want you to try and establish contact with the suspect," a large and sleepy looking sergeant startled them. None of them had heard him approach.

"Get me a phone and eyes in the room," Don told the sergeant before turning to Nikki, the rain was doing funny things to her curly hair and Liz would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so dire. _Please God let him be ok, _Liz prayed silently for the thousandth time since she had joined Don and Nikki.

"Don't worry he's going to be alright," Don said, practically reading Liz's thoughts as he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She smiled weakly back as the sergeant approached with a phone. He moved as if he was stuck in slow motion and Liz gritted her teeth as she felt resentment towards the sergeant bubble inside her.

"Dispatch informed me that the line is still available, so Nikki, I want you to get a tap on that conversation whilst I make contact with the suspect," Don said, recapturing her attention. "From the call we know that Colby hasn't revealed he's a cop yet. I would worry, but it's Colby, his distrust of LA is legendary," Don snorted at the memory, "he never goes anywhere without his gun so we can assume he's armed and waiting for an opening. Once we have eyes on the room we'll help produce an opening for him, what?" Don asked when he noticed Liz's pale face.

"I asked him to leave his gun in the glove compartment while we had our meal. I don't think he took it out again after," Liz's legs turned to jelly and if Nikki hadn't steered her to the passenger seat of Don's Chevy, she would have collapsed. _He never leaves that bloody sidearm,_ Liz scolded herself mentally, _and he was right. LA is not safe. _

"He's going to be alright, you'll see," Don repeated as he took Liz's hand, but she could see he was silently cursing inside. _He's unarmed,_ was all she could think, _he's unarmed and I sent him in there alone. _The thought practically smothered her as she watched Don dial the shop's direct line. Subconsciously, they all held their breath as the phone rang and rang until eventually the other end picked up.

*break*

"I WOULD'T answer that if I were you," Colby told Sam as he wavered by the phone receiver.

"Why not?" Sam strode over to the door to peer out once more. He used the nozzle of the gun to separate the blinds, and whatever he saw caused him to curse violently.

Colby could only imagine. The police would have set up a barricade to keep civilians back by now. SWAT was inevitably around somewhere and if Colby knew Liz, she had probably called Don by now. The thought of Liz caused Colby to groan. _Of all the Kmarts in the entire world, he'd walked into this one,_ Colby thought silently to himself. It was hard, but eventually Colby pulled his attention back to the conversation. "Have you never seen 'Law and Order'?" Colby pretended to pick fluff from his coat jacket, "the first contact is the most important section of _hostage_ negotiation." Colby's eyes flicked to Sam's at this to gauge his reaction. If he had expected Sam to react, he was wasting his breath. He was clearly as thick as two short planks.

"What's your point?" Sam replied clearly not getting it.

"My point is," Colby relied, steel in his voice as he struggled to hold onto his patience, "you're wound tighter than a spring. Your voice is shaking with anger and your choice of vocabulary are all going to tell the police one thing, that you're _hostile_." Cheryl gave a strangled sob at the word hostile. Colby took her small hand in his large one and gave it a squeeze.

"Meaning what exactly?" Sam drew Colby's attention back to the situation at hand.

The phone ring was giving Colby a headache. _I wonder if there's any aspirin about,_ Colby thought, before sighing and getting up. "Meaning that the situation cannot be resolved through negotiation, it means you're un-negotiable. You'd be better off asking one of us to answer the call and give the police your list of demands. You might want to think about what those are by the way." Turning to Cheryl Colby asked, "You got any aspirin?"

"Isle three, second shelf," she said, her voice sounding rough from all the crying.

"Cheers," Colby said and moved to the shelf in question whilst Sam was distracted. He grabbed the aspirin and a bottle of water, before sitting back down next to the others. He took the tablets and then offered the water around. Meanwhile, Sam paced back and forth between the door and the phone. Colby swore he could see the cogs in Sam's mind turning from where he sat and braced himself for the inevitable.

"Ok, you answer the phone. Tell them I want a car and a free road to drive away on," Sam nodded to himself before returning back to the door.

Colby got up once more and picked the phone up, "Colby Granger."

"Col," Don's voice came steady with a hint of concern in his ear. _So Liz had contacted him,_ _that's my girl, _Colby smiled reassured before he realised where he was.

"What are they saying?" Sam asked his voice laced with suspicion. Colby frowned as Sam strode back over to Colby and pointed the gun at the phone.

"They say that they have the building surrounded and that it would be in your best interests to surrender now while the situation can be resolved amicably," Colby said as Don brought Colby up to date. Apparently SWAT was everywhere and the snipers were in position. _Let's hope it doesn't come to that,_ Colby thought as Sam shifted uncomfortably next to him.

"Tell them," Sam waved the gun, "you tell them that I want a car and a free road."

"The gentleman would like a car and a free road to leave by," Colby repeated and made sure to give a slight wobble in the voice to sell his part.

"Col," Liz's small voice could be heard in the background, "are you ok?" She sounded like she was about ready to cry and Colby would have given anything to be there next to her, holding her, comforting her. _I'm ok!_ _Don't worry about me; I'm just glad that you're ok,_ he yearned to tell her.

The last two months had been torture as he'd had to keep away from her to sell his cover. Ever since she'd come to him in the tiny locker room, he couldn't get her out of his head. The crook of her neck, the legs that seemed to go on forever and the way her face brightened when she saw him.

Colby felt the familiar warmth spread through his body as he craved to be with her. _Damn you Sam,_ Colby thought roughly as once more he had to pull his thoughts away from Liz and back to the hostage situation he found himself in. "Yes, we are _all_ fine," Colby said his voice rough with desire. Gripping the phone tightly, Colby tried to be as reassuring as possible under the circumstances, "please, do as the man asks there are women and children-"

But Sam had already snatched the phone from his grasp, slamming it down as he pointed the gun back at Colby. "Back with the others," Sam said through gritted teeth and Colby had no choice, but to comply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

TIME HAD NEVER passed as slowly as it did over the next couple of hours. Colby sat in his place by the counter surveying Sam whom was practically quivering with nerves, as he paced back and forth between the phone and the door. Whatever Sam saw behind the now, permanently, bent blinds caused him to curse profusely, seemingly unaware of his silent hostages.

Taking his eyes off Sam, Colby surveyed the other hostages. Cheryl was deathly pale underneath her freckles, her coppery curls sprung erratically about her shoulders, and she stared ahead with wide and impassive eyes. The mother and teenager Colby had noticed earlier, had quit crying long ago, and instead were now gripping each other's hands, knuckles white and tense with effort. The man had quit mumbling, but his bowed head and clasped hands suggested he was still praying. _God isn't going to save us,_ Colby thought bitterly. He had stopped believing in God back in Afghanistan.

The man looked up suddenly as if he'd read Colby's atheistic thoughts causing Colby to blush slightly in embarrassment. When the man cocked his head meaningfully at Colby he realised that the man had been trying to get his attention, probably for some time now.

Colby looked at the man properly for the first time. He was big and broad, and Colby would have bet money that he was pushing forty. His hair was speckled with grey and thinning on top. He wore a business suit, it wasn't scruffy but it wasn't pressed either. His face was covered in a five o'clock shadow. Subconsciously, Colby reached up and felt the stubble on his own face. It was getting late he realised suddenly. He looked briefly at the watch on his wrist, it was midnight. His meal with Liz felt like it had happened days ago, not a couple of hours ago.

Colby felt breathless from the pang of misery and lust he felt at the thought of Liz in the restaurant, snuggled next to him in the booth. He missed the weight of her next to him, warm and soft and his. Together they had talked and eaten great food and Liz's laughter had sliced through all the pain from his time undercover. She made him alive with her smile and easy laughter, and if she had noticed he'd been quieter than usual she hadn't let on.

Colby grimaced as the memory of the last two months rolled over him, tormenting him. He couldn't understand it, he loved going undercover, but this time? It had been different. Colby had been questioning himself a lot lately, second guessing his abilities, but more importantly his instincts.

When Don had suggested they put Colby undercover, Colby had wanted to argue, to throw a tantrum in the middle of the bull pen, but mostly he wanted to say no. Instead he had nodded, taken the packet containing his false identity for the time being, and headed for the locker room. Then Liz had entered the room and the sun had seemed to come out. She broke through his tense thoughts, till all he'd felt was desire.

He'd always liked Liz, but at the time she'd been dating Don, and then they were friends, they'd never found the right timing. Colby rested his head on the counter behind him as he let the memory of her parted lips at the shock of him stooping over her in the locker room, wash over him only to be replaced with the sound of Liz's voice on the phone before, cold and scared. He needed to get to her, to wrap himself around her until they melted into one. He'd never wanted to be saved more than he did right then.

The thought was hastily removed as Colby remembered the way Don had looked when Colby had seen him last, pale, determined, but mostly exhausted. Don had frowned at Colby from behind his desk as Colby presented the evidence so far. Colby wanted out, and he'd told Don as much, however, for the first time in five years, Don had ignored him. "Suck it up," Don had said, not cruelly, but with enough force to make Colby prickle with rage. Colby had stormed out, slamming Don's door behind him, so angry, that he had broken protocol. It was only as he was turning into the small house's driveway, that Colby had realised he'd driven straight to Liz's from the office.

Liz lived on a quaint residential street on the outskirts of town, and in comparison to the others, Liz's bungalow was tiny. With sudden reservations, Colby had cautiously rung the door bell, and listened as it sounded faintly from inside the house. While waiting for Liz to answer the door Colby had sat on the porch swing, slowly rocking back and forth, and breathing in the soft scent of honeysuckle that had always reminded him of Liz. It was the type of house he'd always dreamed of owning one day. He would let himself imagine Liz and him, old and snuggled together on the porch and felt at home for the first time since moving to LA.

Eventually, after what felt like ages, Liz opened her door. Her hair was wispy, and stood on end and for a second she had stood in her doorway, eyes wide, lips parted, dressed in an old t-shirt that reached mid-way down her thighs, and Colby had never wanted her more. Then finally, after what had seemed like an eternity of shared staring, Colby had smiled and said, "Hey." It hadn't been his finest hour. Regardless, Liz had taken his large hand in her petite one, and led him to her small overstuffed couch, and held him, no questions asked. Colby had been so relieved he'd let her voice warm him whilst he sat motionless watching the embers in her fireplace glow hot and cold.

Everything in her house had looked small and comfortable, or maybe it had just seemed small next to him. The room reminded him so much of Liz, and that had been comfort enough at the time. At first they'd sat together like that, unaware of time as she rested her head on his shoulder, her soft brown hair tickling his chin. He had wanted to stay with her, motionless, forever. Being with her helped him to forget the cold numbness that had led to walls around his aching heart. He was playing a cold bastard and eventually undercover he'd stopped pretending, and had just become the cold bastard the suspect had thought he was.

He'd hated every second of being undercover, pretending to be friends with the low lifes who sold and distributed a special type of bullet that could pierce bulletproof vests. To act the way they had expected him to. At least he hadn't been faking his anger as the suspect told him to beat the rat that had tipped the FBI off, and Colby had, he'd had no choice. Refuse and they would suspect him. At the time it had been Colby or the rat, and Colby had chosen to save himself. At least he'd managed to drag the snitch out alive, but the minor accomplishment did nothing to appease his guilty conscience.

It had all been too much for him at the time. Colby had wanted nothing more than to nail the slippery bastard, but sitting there on her couch, Colby had wanted to kiss Liz more, to hold her in his arms and enjoy the weight of her head on his chest. Colby had let her presence wash over him like a wave, taking all the pain and guilt away, as it receded back into the ocean.

His want and need for her had been overwhelming, and suddenly the frustration of the previous month had taken its toll. He'd grabbed her mid-sentence, and kissed her with a gentle intensity he hadn't realise he'd had, and instead of pushing him away angrily, she'd kissed him back. Tickling her mouth with his tongue, he'd turned the heat up on the kiss, until she'd moaned and arched into him, matching his need for her. But he was still undercover. So instead of kissing her again, he'd gotten up and walked to the door. "When this is all over I'm taking you out," he'd stated, avoiding her heat-filled eyes.

A cough abruptly took him out of Liz's living room, and brought his attention back to the man opposite him. Seeing he had Colby's full attention, the man gave a pointed look at something over Colby's shoulder.

Turning slowly so as not to startle Sam out of his reverie, Colby looked behind him, but couldn't see what the man obviously was seeing. When he looked back at the man to make sure he was still watching, Colby adjusted his gaze to the counter. All he saw was the remainder of Sam's purchase and his cell. He hadn't realised anyone else had seen him put it there. Colby looked again from this angle, and the cell was barely concealed. _Dear God, don't let Sam see that, _Colby told himself resentfully.

Carefully, Colby turned back to the man, and noticed that he was pointing subtly at something on his belt. A badge. Colby felt sick. So the man was a cop, it certainly explained why the man had kept his cool earlier, well, except for the praying, but Colby started to wonder if that was all an act. _Does he know I'm a cop?_ Colby thought suddenly. No, probably not since then he was pressing a finger to his full lips with a conspiratorial smile.

Colby nodded once, returning the conspiratorial smile as he reached inside his pocket, slowly removing his ID badge. Flipping it over, he revealed the large FBI print and watched the detective's eyes widen slightly. Flicking his eyes to Sam, Colby watched as he paced back towards the phone, his back to them. First Colby put his badge away, and then gestured to his empty holster. The man seemed to catch on-_an intelligent man-_he nodded approvingly. The man pulled back the flap of his jacket an inch to reveal his own sidearm. _Good,_ Colby reassured himself. They could take charge of this situation.

"What are they waiting for?" Sam half-mumbled to himself.

"What's the rush Sam? Somewhere you need to be?" Colby said watching Sam as his eyes flashed in contempt.

"They're stalling." Sam said eventually, exhaustion lining his face. Sam wasn't a young man, Colby guessed he was anywhere between sixty and sixty-five. Sam had wiry white hair that was now plastered to his head. He was visibly sweating and pulling at the collar of his grubby polo shirt.

"My guess is they're having trouble convincing the bureau to 'ok' the car, office politics and all that," Colby gave a 'what can you do?' shrug.

"The Bureau? You think the feds are outside?" Sam began to panic.

"It's a guess. You don't look too pleased with what you see outside," Colby laced his voice with sympathy.

"But...but the feds? This is bad, this is _very_ bad!" Sam ran his hands through his hair and looked beseechingly at Colby.

"You tried to rob a Kmart," Colby stated gently, "what did you think would happen?"

"That I would get the money and be gone. I never considered..._this_," Sam gestured at Colby and the others.

"What did you need the money for?" Colby said, giving a quick look to the detective to make sure he was paying attention.

"They're trying to take my house. My wife painted that house. I look around it and I see her. Forty-five years we lived there but the bank didn't care. A couple of late payments and they're trying to take my house!" Sam surveyed his hostages pityingly, "I didn't ask for this...I didn't." Colby watched Sam slide down the wall in defeat.

"I believe you Sam. I believe you're an honest man but this? Taking hostages? Threatening women and child-"

"I know, I KNOW!" Sam cried putting his face in his hands. "But I won't let them take her from me again," Sam said with steel in his voice, and a new resolve. Picking the gun up and pointing it at Colby he said, "And I won't let _anyone_ stand in my way!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

OUTSIDE, DON watched Liz with increasing concern. The timid and frightened woman before him didn't sit right with the bold and sassy person he knew she could be. Hell, there'd been a time when she had been his rock. He missed that about her, the way they had leaned on each other for support. At the time they'd been working so closely together that their relationship had been convenient, more than anything else. What he and Liz had shared was purely physical, Don thought as he remembered the familiar stirring of lust he'd felt earlier as she'd sprinted across the parking lot.

He'd watched in appreciation as Liz's body shifted under her Japanese wrap. _That woman was born to move,_ Don had thought wistfully before stamping on the ache he felt below as heat spread throughout his body. "What's going on?" Liz had demanded when she'd reached them, and the distress in her voice had been more than palpable, causing Don to flush with guilt.

Don wasn't the only one who was concerned about Liz. Nikki and Tim had been fussing over Liz like a mother hen since Liz had revealed that Colby was defenceless. Remembering the way Liz's face had drained of colour, Don cursed internally for the zillionth time. If there was one thing Don counted on Colby for, it was his legendary distrust of LA. One night with Liz, and like any man, Colby had caved to the demands of a hot woman, _and the possibility of sex,_ Don thought bitterly. He knew it wasn't rational to be jealous of Colby, he loved Robin, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

_It's because I'm the SAIC, it's on me to be responsible,_ Don tried to rationalise as he reached to answer his cell. "Eppes," he said.

"Don," Robin's voice sounded in his ear, "I just heard! How's Colby? Do you know anything?"

"We don't know much," Don told Robin, blushing as he remembered Liz's body moving under the wrap and wishing he was touching the filmy softness beneath his fingers. Robin was too conservative to wear anything that sexy. "Colby and the others are safe for the moment. The hostage negotiation team are having a hard time getting the suspect to pick the phone up. He's very tense and it's putting everyone on edge," Don rubbed his face roughly in annoyance.

"He's going to be ok," Robin said soothingly to Don, making him feel guiltier.

It wasn't like Robin was boring. It was just that she was black and white to Liz's technicolor. Everyone looked plain next to Liz. Not that it mattered. Don wouldn't trade Robin for anything. Robin was beautiful, smart, and aggressive and Don loved her for it. Very few saw the Robin that Don knew and loved. She was thoughtful, caring and loving, not an 'Ice Bitch' as she was known by the other attorneys. "We haven't spoken since the incident in my office," Don's voice cracked as he opened up to Robin, after all, she was the woman he loved, and the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The mere thought made him dizzy for a moment. "What if something happens-?"

"Don't think like that!" Robin cried half sympathetic and half appalled, "If you were held hostage who would you want to be there for you?"

"Colby," Don replied reluctantly.

"Well, Colby feels the same about you," Robin's voice was solid in its stubbornness, "You're like a brother to him. He's family. If anyone can get him home safe you can."

Don closed his eyes and drank in her reassurances, wishing he could believe them, and more than anything wishing she was there with him. "That's just it...I don't know if I can," Don told her sincerely, "You know how much I _botched_ up the last case," Don's voice strained on the word, "That assignment changed him. It's different between us now, and I don't know if we can comeback from this..."

Don had only been the Special Agent in Charge for a little over two months, and he could feel the pressure mounting as the AD breathed down his neck for reassurances. Don felt like an exhibit in the zoo, so many people watched his every move these days that his office was beginning to feel more like a cage than a place of business. Some people were encouraging, but it felt as if the rest were just waiting for him to fail. The last SAIC had been extremely popular, and Don had wanted nothing more than to be as good a leader, if not a better one. It was definitely large shoes to fill, and for the first time Don felt powerless. His world was slipping away from him and Don was helpless to stop it.

"Colby plays his cards close to his vest," Robin broke through Don's thoughts of self-pity, "there's something else bothering Colby, but once he's dealt with it _he will forgive you_."

Don cast his mind back to that day in his office, Colby had come in and told Don he'd wanted out. They had enough to convict the suspect, but not for the crime that Don had been holding out for. The AD wanted results, and the pressure he put on Don was phenomenal. _If we could just take down LA's biggest gun trafficking ring, and take out the cop killer bullets in one go,_ Don had thought, _the AD wouldn't regret promoting me._

It was weak and Don was ashamed that he'd taken it out on Colby, but it had been a long time since he'd gone over to his brother's house, and Don felt so alone. He was too tired to share any real conversation with Robin, and he was definitely too tired for sex. Don knew it was pathetic, but what he really longed for was to share a cold beer with his father, to just relax and watch a game.

Charlie had left for England with Amita a month and a half ago, and Don missed his brother more than he would ever admit. "What if he doesn't come back?" Don had asked Robin one night when neither one could sleep. He'd held Robin tightly as if she could disappear at any moment, and her voice had come steady and strong from the darkness that enveloped him. "Charlie and Amita are coming home. They'd miss this too much," Robin had assured Don, and for that night it had been enough. But the fear was still there, and Don was worried that without the FBI cases, there would be nothing to keep Charlie close again.

So instead of relaxing with his father, and bickering with his nerdy brother, Don found his days were spent chained to his desk, consumed by a mountain of paper work that had been swamping his desk since the old SAIC had resigned, and Don had taken over. Some nights he was so exhausted he fell asleep at his desk and in that moment, with Colby sat across from Don, demanding an out of the investigation, Don let all the anger, all the resentment, and all the pressure that had been slowly building up, out on Colby.

"THERE IS NO _OUT_! Not until we retrieve those _BULLETS!_ I have _fifty_ other cases that need _MY_ urgent attention and an AD with a bloody _ego _problem. All I do all day is slave away in this pissing office! Do you know how much I _wish_ I could be _out_ in the field like you? _SUCK IT UP GRANGER! AND GET ME THOSE FUCKING BULLETS!_," he'd told Colby whose eyes had crackled with barely concealed contempt.

Don never usually swore and didn't like being regarded as the bad guy, but with fifty other cases all stacked precariously on his desk vying for his attention, Don realised he just didn't care. Don would have loved to be out of the office and undercover, he couldn't understand why Colby didn't and frankly had no time to contemplate Colby's reluctance.

Eventually he had asked Colby to just get out. He was the SAIC now, and he had more pressing concerns than Colby's apparent lack of interest in this case. Like why he was snapping at, and alienating a close friend, whom he cared for like family. Later that night, Don had flopped into bed next to a sleeping Robin, and stared at the ceiling remembering the way Colby's jaw had tightened, his body ramrod straight, disgust in his eyes.

"Colby hasn't talked to me since I demanded that he stay undercover," Don told Robin, "he reached out to me and I got angry at him. We secured a conviction this morning but he remained impassive. He's angry, what if I don't get a chance to tell him that I was _wrong."_

"He knows dear," Robin said sadly, "Look, I have court now, but I want regular updates. I'm going to leave my phone with Gill, and he'll come in and pass me notes. It's a simple drug bust, I should be out soon, and then I'm coming down there."

"Don?" Nikki asked, putting her hand on his arm to get his attention.

"I have to go. _I love you_," Don said, hanging up before she could respond, and looked down at the small screen in front of him. He stared regretfully at Colby's small, cautious face. Colby was angry at Don, probably because of the activities he'd been forced to participate in during the previous two months._ What else can I do?_ _We got a damn conviction didn't we? _Don thought stubbornly to himself. _But at what cost?_ His mind added treacherously. He felt guilty as hell, but Don could live with that. What he couldn't live with was men pointing guns at his unarmed agents.

A couple hours had gone by since they had first arrived at the shop, and the hostage team had tried the phone twice unsuccessfully. Sam Jackson was refusing to come out and play. _Never mind,_ Don thought, _we have your every move on camera._ Don was knackered, but his fear kept him wide awake as he watched the black and white form. He recognised Sam Jackson from the mug shot Nikki had shown them earlier.

Two hours passed in silence, until Jackson suddenly realised he was never going to get the car he had demanded. Jackson stopped pacing back and forth between the phone and the door. Don was relieved because Jackson's pacing was making Tim edgy. Don had already had to talk Tim down from storming the place once, and he was too tired to do it again. Instead Don watched scared with the others as Jackson pointed the gun right at Colby and said "And I won't let _anyone_ stand in my way!"

To which Colby replied, "Who's standing in your way? No one here. Not the women, children, and us. Think of your wife, what's she going to say when she hears about this on the ten o'clock news?"

_SHUT UP!_ Don had wanted to scream at Colby but instead of getting angry, Don watched Jackson sag in defeat. "She's dead," he'd said with a voice so tiny and vulnerable even Don had felt a little sympathy for him.

"I'm sorry," Colby had replied, voicing Don's own sentiments.

"They took her from me," Jackson replied equally defeated.

Instead of replying, Don had watched Colby share a conspiratorial nod with the man opposite him. _Hello?_ Don thought enquiringly. "Get me a list of the people inside with Colby. I want to know who that man is." Don told Nikki before returning to the drama before him.

*break*

AN HOUR AFTER Sam had revealed his wife was dead, Colby watched the old man's movements slow, and become sluggish from the heat that now engulfed them. Looking around him, Colby could see the heat visibly taking its effect on the other hostages as well. Cheryl's face was still as pale as before, nevertheless a bright and burning red now marred her smooth cheeks, from the temperature of the room. The mother was sweating profusely, and every now and again, Colby watched as she dabbed at her head and chest with a tissue in an attempt to remove some. The daughter looked worse for wear, her black hair was matted to her heart shaped face, and the sweat left thick streaks down her face, ruining her pale make-up. As for the detective, Colby watched him struggle valiantly with the heat in his suit jacket in the attempts to keep his pistol concealed.

The room stank of stale sweat, none of which was Colby's, whom had learnt to deal with worse heat in Afghanistan. He did remove his tie, which had been bothering him for a while. He didn't like to wear them too often, but for Liz he had dressed up, especially since she had as well. Colby tried not to think about the tight fitting wrap of Liz's, he was already hot enough.

"Why's it so hot?" Sam's whine broke the eerie silence as he complained about the heat for what felt like the fiftieth time that hour. Colby watched silently as Sam undid another button on his shirt to reveal ample white chest hair, his worn and battered jacket lay forgotten in a pile by his feet.

"It's the cops," the detective told Sam, "It's a technique they use." It was the first time Colby had heard the detective's voice properly. It was rough from a lifetime of abuse from cigarettes.

"A technique?" Sam seemed genuinely surprised that the cops could be controlling their environment from the outside.

"They turn the heat up and cut all the electricity except the phone. The only way out of this coffin is if they let you out," Colby replied without caring. It had been three long hours with a psychopath and four quiet hostages. All Colby wanted to do was get out of this shop, and pull Liz into his warm embrace. Her small voice on the phone had seemed so far away, and all Colby could think was _at least she's safe._ He didn't know what he would have done if she'd come into the shop with him.

"They have no choice but to let me out," Sam responded confidently as he collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, reclaiming Colby and the detective's attention. He'd been pacing most of the three hours, "I have you guys."

"Ha," Colby stifled a bitter laugh, "You know what they call us Sam? Hmmm? Two words: Collateral. Damage." Cheryl's small hand tightened in his grasp at his statement and he mentally kicked himself.

"They wouldn't do anything," Sam replied, but he seemed less confident this time as he looked from the detective to Colby and back again.

"You don't get it do you?" the detective chimed in resentfully as he watched Sam put the gun down next to him so he could fan his face with both hands. "They have SWAT everywhere. They will only wait so long. The second they feel they can no longer negotiate with you they will storm this place, hostages or no hostages."

"They wouldn't dare!" Sam looked stunned.

"They would. Four deaths would be a terrible shame, but the news will be singing of the gunman who murdered four innocent people. Not the police's inability to negotiate with him. Is that how you want to be remembered Sam? As a murder?" Colby replied his tone even but hard.

"No!" Sam shouted outraged. Grabbing the gun he came over to where the detective and Colby were sitting. "Because they will give me the car or I'll shoot." Sam had the gun in the detectives face now and for a moment Colby watched him freeze and his eyes widen. Then he looked over Sam's shoulder at Colby. Sam followed the detectives gaze and frowned. Suddenly, Colby realised Sam wasn't looking at him but the barely concealed cell on the counter behind him. "What's that?" He asked incredulous as he picked the cell up and examined it. When he realised the phone was on he threw it against the floor in anger, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. "Who put it there?" Sam demanded of his hostages angrily as he waved the gun dangerously.

_Serve and protect, _Colby thought dryly as he stood up and shouted, "I did!" and drew Sam's wrath upon himself.

"YOU!" Sam's face turned purple, it wasn't a pretty colour on him. "Well then _Colby_," Sam spat at him, "We seem to have a little problem don't we?"

"NO! IT WAS ME!" The detective declared just as loudly, and Colby watched the colour drain out of Sam's face when he realised the detective had drawn a gun on him.

"Wait!" Colby said coming around to stand between Sam and the detective. He guessed he had a couple of minutes to convince Sam to put the gun down before SWAT flooded the place and started putting holes in the furniture, or before Sam started putting holes in the hostages, whichever came first. "Listen, just listen to me ok? I understand. You're doing this for your wife. They took her from you and then when you thought you were losing her again you panicked-"

"Get out the way Colby," the detective overrode him.

"I had _no_ choice," Sam appealed to Colby as he tightened his grip on the gun. "They said I was done. Forty five years and it's over because I can't make a _stupid_ payment. Is that justice?"

Colby raced to head Sam off, "No, it's not, but I, _I_ understand!"

Sam looked sceptically at Colby whilst trying to inch around him so his gun aimed at the detective. "How could you understand? How could any of you _possibly understand_?" he shouted at Colby.

"Because _I_ know your _pain_, I've been there myself." Stretching his hands out imploringly, Colby took a deep breath and said the hardest sentence he'd ever had to say in his life. A sentence he'd never admitted to anyone else, a sentence that whispered incessantly in his dreams without reprieve. One he had never said aloud before tonight, "I know because _I_ too lost my wife. She died seven years and two months ago in Afghanistan."

It had been harder for Colby to say than he had ever believed it could be, but he was glad it was out there. He felt as if a weight had been lifted. "I'm sorry-" the detective and Sam said together, neither one meeting his eyes.

But Colby hardly heard them; now that he had started he couldn't stop. The truth felt so refreshing after the last two months. "She was in my regiment and she gave her _life_ to _protect_ mine. She was _kind_ and _honest_ and they took her and brutally _murdered_ her in front of me," Colby voice shook with repressed anger. "Recently I fell in love and I was worried that what I have with this new woman would override what few memories I have left of my wife, but those memories are always going to be there. I learnt to deal with the fact that there is no war without casualties. Sooner or later you have to stop hating, stop fighting and live your life. It's what they would have wanted. It's a house, man. Are you really choosing to murder these innocent people over a house?"

"Don't you dare try and speak for my wife! You didn't know her, she...she meant everything to me-" Sam screamed as big fat tears poured down his face.

"-she was your world right? Without her life was pointless? My mother always said when my father died that it was the little things we tend to miss the most, the stuff that makes them who they were. My wife," Colby put his hand on his chest with a wry smile on his face, "I miss her impish smile the most. The way her eyes lit up just because _I_ walked in the room, the way her laughter sounded like silver bells that rang for no one else but me. She hated Afghanistan. The fighting and the death, it changes people you know? Hell, it changed me. But Hannah, she loved me anyway, even when I couldn't love myself. The war tore my family apart and then I met Hannah. She was my family, and the insurgents beat her to death in front of me whilst I lay crushed by the weight of a Humvee, trying to pretend I was dead. But mostly wishing that I was."

Colby watched as Sam wavered between uncertain and horrified. "But if you could have her back? What would you do to hold onto even the smallest part of her? What if you knew a bank was trying to steal the last piece you had of her and money was the only way to keep it. Only you don't have any money. What would _you_ have done?"

"Not what you're doing. I wanted revenge and I even went back to Afghanistan to get it. My brother never _forgave_ me for that. But eventually you learn that no one can take your memories. Hannah lives on in _me _as your wife lives on in _you_. Not a house and I would never _steal_ nor _threaten_ innocent lives to keep it either. Hand yourself in," Colby pleaded, "All you've done is hold people against their will for a few hours. Let them all go! Hand yourself in, and the police will be lenient. So far you have done nothing wrong or at least not so wrong that you can't be _forgiven_." But Colby might as well have been talking Greek.

"No, you're wrong I can't be forgiven," Sam said, ignoring Colby and talking directly to the detective instead, "Put your gun down_ now!_"

"You first!" the detective replied, playing hard ball.

"Put the gun down...or...I'll shoot," Sam repeated as he swung his gun on Cheryl, who screamed in protest.

"Will _everyone_ put their guns down," Colby begged Sam and the detective, and watched as Sam's resolve began to weaken, and he lowered his gun an inch. "Now, let's walk out of here _together_!" Colby tried to appeal to the detective to lower his own weapon as well, but it was too late and Colby knew it deep inside. He could hear the beginnings of SWAT breaking the small door in, and apparently so did Sam.

"It's too late. I'm sorry, just so sorry. Please make sure they know how sorry I am. I'm coming Isabel," Sam called out as his grip tightened on the gun and Colby watched the detective's eyes widen as Sam raised the gun again to point it directly at him.

Quick to react, Colby jumped on the detective, dragging him to the ground as pain seared throughout his body and the sound of a gunshot exploded, causing the room to go quiet. Colby didn't know how he'd gotten on the floor; all he knew was pain that contrasted strangely with the softness beneath him.

Trying his hardest to get up, Colby howled in anguish as the pain swamped his senses, causing his arms to cave beneath him, and collapsed on top of the detective once more. Wrenching his eyes open, Colby took in the carnage around him.

The small door to the shop stood crookedly on its hinges, shattered glass lay everywhere. Next to Colby lay Sam's motionless body, blood seeped from Sam's chest and pooled on the ground around him, congealing with Colby's own blood. The detective was struggling now, and Colby gritted his teeth against the throbbing pain as the detective jostled him in an attempt to extradite himself from the pool of blood.

Colby's ears rang till he realised Liz was screaming beside him. With Don and Nikki's help they got the detective out and laid Colby back on his front before applying pressure to his wound, causing Colby to scream out in pain. Wheezing slightly Colby tried to breathe deeply, and fill his lungs with air but the effort almost caused him to pass out. Yanking his eyes open for the second time in what felt like an eternity, Colby was rewarded with Liz's face, but when it came into focus he noticed the tears streaming down her smooth cheeks, and tried to brush them away clumsily.

"It's going to be fine! _You're_ going to be fine," she kept saying as she cradled his head on her lap, stroking his cheek. For a moment Colby let himself sink into the warmth and comfort of her hand on his cheek, blotting out the pain and darkness that was ebbing at his consciousness.

Grabbing her hand, Colby winced as the paramedics went to work on him, but they seemed so far away. Everything seemed so far away. He was no longer aware of the dozens of SWAT officers, all waiting with baited breath, as the paramedics rolled him onto a gurney. He wasn't even aware of Liz screaming next to him, all he knew was the pain and it flooded his consciousness causing his eyes to flutter closed and his body to go slack. "No!" she screamed again, this time swatting at Colby's shoulder. "You stay awake, you hear me? Wake up, God damn it!"

But it was too late; Colby could feel his whole body going cold, and started to shiver uncontrollably. "He's going into shock," he heard a male voice call out, but to whom Colby didn't care. He was just so numb, and he could feel the black ebbing around his consciousness. "Colby! Come on Col, stay with me, you have to stay awake!" A female voice shivered with him in the darkness. Colby could hear the panic in the voice, but he couldn't hold on to it, he was just so tired.

Sighing internally, Colby tried to remember where he was as a piercing siren brought him back slightly, and momentarily starved off the darkness that threatened to take him. "Come back to me Col," the female voice coaxed in his ear. But for the life of him he couldn't understand why. Slowly the exhaustion weakened his resolve and Colby felt himself letting go. "He's crashing," The male voice yelled as Colby felt himself being lifted further and further away into the darkness that now consumed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

*24 Hours Later*

"BUSINESS OR PLEASURE?" the lady in the seat next to David asked sensually as she pulled her silky brown hair around her left shoulder.

"Business I guess, definitely not pleasure," David said, failing to hide the pain in his deep voice. He was exhausted, lonely, but mostly angry at himself. He felt as if his whole world was upside down.

"Poor baby," she replied sympathetically, one hand stroking his muscled arm gently whilst the other rested lightly on his thigh, "would you like to talk about it?" She smiled sexily.

She shivered under his intense gaze, and David was overwhelmed at the kindness in her soft brown eyes, "my partner's in the hospital," he replied wondering how much to reveal to this enchanting stranger.

"Poor, poor baby, what happened?" She asked with wide, startled eyes, the hand stroking his arm picked up its pace.

"He was shot in the back, protecting this other guy. He was being held hostage when the situation turned nuclear." David said, unable to look into her beautiful hazel eyes, but feeling the need to unload on her anyway. It was as if she had pulled the cork out of his bottled up emotions, and the grief was now gushing out with an alarming intensity.

"Oh," she said, slipping her hand from his thigh, "how long have you been together?"

"We've been partners for five years," David smiled ruefully, unshed tears glistening in his eyes, "but then I moved to DC. It's been a while since we spoke last." David added as he felt a familiar guilt pooling in the base of his stomach. "I thought he was ignoring me, I was so angry."

"He clearly doesn't appreciate what he had," she smiled honestly at David, the silky tone gone from her voice as she patted his arm sympathetically.

"Eh?" David replied confused.

"Your _partner_," she said her smile friendly, "clearly doesn't appreciate you. After a break up, I'd find it hard travelling seven hours to see an Ex in the hospital."

"Wait what? I'M NOT GAY!" David rushed to reassure the woman next to him a bit too loudly that he got disapproving glares from the other passengers, "I'm an FBI agent, it's my old partner slash best friend who got shot," David added, quieter this time.

"Oh," she laughed sexily at her own mistake as she swatted his arm, her other hand making its way back to his thigh, "I'm sure he's going to be fine. He sounds really brave."

"Perhaps a little too brave," David replied reflectively, "he was always the first to jump in, both feet first. God listen to me, _was_, he's not dead yet and I'm already using past tense!" David scolded himself, ignoring the hand on his thigh as it steadily inched up his leg. He felt numb from the guilt eating away at him.

When Liz had phoned earlier that day, David had been mid-way through briefing his team on a new investigation involving museum heists. At first he had ignored the call, he was busy, and whatever it was could wait. _It's not like they pick up immediately either,_ David had thought rebelliously,_ or ever in Colby's case_. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard from his old team mates, it had been at least two months ago. _Perhaps longer from Colby_, David had thought as he tried to keep the hurt from showing on his face.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the work. He liked being the team leader for the anti-corruption team in DC. His team had even welcomed him with open arms. He'd watched fondly as they drank in every word of his brief, poised and ready to put in their own input at the end. David couldn't put his finger on it, but the atmosphere just didn't feel as relaxed, and laidback as it had in LA. The weather was different, and apparently so was the general attitude of DC.

It was during these odd moments of reflection that David couldn't help but compare them to his old team. He missed everyone in LA deeply, and as a result it hadn't taken long for the doubt to set in. Why haven't they called? What case are they working now? He felt alone and left out, which was crazy because he had been the one to leave, not them. _And what for?_ He considered now, _a chance to be my own leader? _The notion seemed silly knowing now that Don had been promoted to SAIC and the job as team leader was now available. As far as David knew, Don was having a hard time finding a replacement. _Replaced,_ David thought savagely,_ that's how I feel, replaced._

In both anger and retaliation, David had shoved Liz's phone call to the back of his mind and continued with his brief. It had only been late at night in an empty apartment, drinking a beer by himself that his mind had strayed back to his old team and Liz's phone call.

"David, Colby's in the hospital!" Liz's small voice had cried over the line, and as she filled David in on that past two months David had felt the guilt beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach. Colby had been undercover, at Don's request for the last two months, and that was why he hadn't contacted his old partner.

Ashamed, David had hung up the phone, and booked himself the first flight to LA. Before long David had found himself sprinting through the airport, trying to reach his terminal. Customs had been a bitch, and with dwindling patience, David had resorted to using his badge to skip the queue.

"Welcome to flight UA 629 to Los Angeles," their pilot's voice trailed over the tannoy to them, breaking into David's sadistic thoughts, "please put on your seat belts and prepare for take-off. The time is one a.m. and we should be arriving in LA around 8 a.m. Enjoy the flight."

"I hate take-off," the woman had grimaced at the pilot's announcement.

"Naw," David smiled for the first time as he took her hand in his, and tried to put Colby to the back of his mind, "It's the landing you want to be weary off," He winked mischievously as she swatted at his arm with a laugh.

*44 Hours Later*

JASON GRANGER rubbed ferociously at the excruciating cocktail of fear, fatigue and fury that had been slowly brewing behind his temples over the long drive to LA. With every town, city and Stateline that Jason had passed through along his journey; the pounding in his head had escalated into a thumping crescendo, which now pulsed under his slender fingers.

Closing his eyes, Jason pressed his fingers hard against the pain he felt there, and continued to ignore the man sat opposite from him. If the man was at all bothered by Jason's rude behaviour he wasn't displaying it. Not that it mattered much, eye's open or shut Jason couldn't block out the dreadful image of his brother's frozen and fragile body lying defenceless and vulnerable in the hospital bed that engulfed him. With a loud and audible sigh of defeat, Jason opened his eyes and winced as the overwhelming glare of the canteen lights fried his sensitive eyes.

Blinking a few times to clear them, Jason watched hypnotised as his companion methodically traced the lip of his paper cup with a slender finger. Jason looked down at his own shredded paper cup and wished he was back in Idaho, bent over a car and putting his own shaking hands to good use. It had only been when Julio had called Jason that he had realised he'd abandoned the garage without a second thought.

Jason looked down despairingly at his dishevelled appearance. He was still wearing his work overalls, although he had pulled the top down to tie around his waist, revealing his white t-shirt in all its grease stained glory. In the over clean environment of the hospital, Jason was only too aware of the stains marring the comfortable cotton fabric, and cursed himself for not having had the forethought to change at one of the many gas stations he'd passed through in his hurry to get there.

In comparison the man opposite wore a perfectly ironed sea green shirt over a darker pressed t-shirt of the same colour, his sleeves rolled up around his elbows revealing toned forearms. Physically the man was striking. He had shortish black hair, sleeked back with gel except for one unruly lock which fell into his almond shaped eyes. He wasn't bulky but lean in build, with broad shoulders and a tanned healthy athletic build. Jason watched as the man stretched out his jean clad legs with cat like agility, his muscles rippling from the effort.

To the casual observer the man would probably appear to be relaxed and unfazed, but up-close Jason could see the minor incline of the man's hunched shoulders, the straight slant of his rigid back, and the slight tension in the man's stiff frame. Ex-military, Jason guessed from the man's sharp and watchful gaze, his body tense and poised, ready for action. They were probably old habits the man was unaware he had, and Jason was in no mood to inform him of them.

"Would you like another coffee?" The man asked, gesturing to the pieces of Jason's coffee cup that he was currently tearing into smaller chunks with a fierce intensity.

"Thanks," Jason replied, letting the man sweep up the remains of the cup into one of his large open hands, and watched as he sauntered off to the coffee machine in the corner. Feeling a strong sense of reprieve, Jason returned to his private thoughts once more. The last twenty-four hours were a blur of bad coffee, stale hamburgers, and a maze of highways and interstates. The thought of more coffee made Jason want to barf, however, the man was being kind, and Jason didn't have the heart to tell him so.

Julio had always complained in the past that Jason was too nice, too easy going for his own good, but Jason didn't understand the need to alienate people for the sake of it. If tact was what the situation called for then he could be polite till the cows came home. It was no skin off his back. _Perhaps it's because of his Spanish passion,_ Jason mused,_ or perhaps it was because he's Adriana's son, but that boy is always getting into trouble. _Not for the first time that night, Jason began to have serious reservations about leaving Julio in control of the garage whilst he was in LA. "Where are you man?" Julio had asked in mild annoyance when he'd phoned.

"I'm on route 50, the loneliest road in America," Jason had replied impassively, "or so the road sign said." He'd smiled bitterly, the irony not lost on him. However, from the never ending sprawling desert on either side of him, Jason agreed that it was a fair assessment. He couldn't remember when he'd come across the last trace of civilisation, and his need to top up the gas was becoming a real concern.

Smiling wearily, Jason had reflected that it would have been just his luck to run out of gas on the loneliest road in America. Julio, however, had started to swear violently in fluent Spanish, "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Jason had asked mildly amused, his spirits lifting a fraction as he left his concerns behind, and concentrated on the swearing Spanish child on the other end.

"What are you doing in Nevada?" Julio had asked Jason when he'd regained control and ignoring Jason's question stated, "This is no time for a midlife crisis amigo."

"Look it's hard to explain," Jason had replied as he'd honked the car in front for being so slow and gotten flipped off in response. "Call my uncle, tell him I'll call him when I get to LA and tell him that until then I need him to look after the garage."

"I can always look after the garage," Julio had offered, probably because he hated the old man, whom inflicted damage as randomly and as completely as a tornado. Against his better judgement, Jason had reluctantly agreed. Any other day Jason would have said no, nevertheless, it had been a slow month and they only had a few cars on the lot. Besides his uncle would only sweep in and complain about the state of the business, making Julio's life more difficult. Furthermore, Jason had no time or patience for clearing the mess up again upon his return to Winchester.

Moreover, Jason hated asking his jaded uncle for help; after all they were still fighting over Colby's joining the army, but mainly because the old man would never let Jason forget it.

That had been in the early hours of the morning, but to Jason it might as well have been decades ago, for now it was just another faded memory. He couldn't concentrate on anything or anyone but Colby. Suddenly the image of Colby lying there, hooked up to too many machines and tubes came hastily back. Thankfully the man placed the coffee down in front of him, thrusting his mind away from Colby's broken body, and back to the sterile reality of the canteen.

Jason had spent so much time alone on the long journey, shying away from human contact whenever possible, that he didn't know how to respond to the sympathetic and almost pitying gaze of the man opposite of him. "Thanks," he said after nothing better sprang to mind, and toasted the man with the coffee, letting the vile fluid scorch his throat as heat flooded his numb body.

"No problem," the man replied absently as he sipped his own coffee. "I'm Agent Ian Edgerton by the way," the man, Ian, added as an afterthought, "I would have introduced myself earlier but you looked like you needed a moment to collect your thoughts."

"Jason, though I prefer Jase," Jason replied uneasily. For a while they both lapsed into an awkward silence, neither one touching their coffee. Eventually, Jason returned his gaze to the agent opposite, "Thanks, by the way, for getting me out of there."

"You looked like you needed a break," Ian shrugged nonchalantly.

"Yeah," Jason agreed noncommittally.

"They're a good bunch really," Ian felt a need to explain, "It's just Colby means a lot to a lot of people, he's like family."

Jason felt himself wince and Ian blush in response, it was the first time Jason had seen the man flustered. "It's ok..." Jason replied lapsing back into awkward silence as he remembered his weird greeting with his brothers 'surrogate' family.

It had all started when Jason was pulled over for speeding as he entered downtown LA. Jason didn't think about the fact that he'd been pulled over by an unmarked car, _probably a detective with an axe to grind_, he'd thought dismissively as the detective came to the window, and asked for Jason's licence and registration.

"Did you know you were speeding?" the detective had asked rhetorically. They both knew he had and Jason cursed silently. _I'm so close,_ he'd thought as he'd handed his licence over fully expecting a ticket and large fine.

"I'm _really_ sorry officer," Jason had pleaded, "It's just my brother's in the hospital and they say he's critical. They said he might not last the night and that was three days ago. I've had no news since."

The officer, however, had remained impassive to Jason's plea, probably assuming that Jason was lying to get out of the ticket. He'd probably heard every excuse in the book. So when the cop froze, and turned his flashlight into Jason's tired face, and said "Jason Granger? Your brother Colby?" he figured he'd finally gone insane.

"Yes, that's what I was trying to tell you," Jason sniped back.

Although immediately felt guilty when the officer exclaimed, "We need to get you to the hospital! Follow me; I'll get you there in no time."

The detective hadn't lied either, and usefully knew what floor his brother was on. He kept saying something about Colby saving his life at a robbery in a Kmart, but Jason was too engrossed in his own thoughts to pay any real attention to the detective. When they eventually reached the door to Colby's private room, the man had told him that he'd fetch the doctor. Unbelievably that had been only a scant hour before.

"I just wasn't prepared, you know?" Jason spoke suddenly, causing Ian to whip his head up startled, "He was just lying there helpless, and the nurse said he probably wasn't aware I was even there. I mean how could he know? He's unconscious, but you see documentaries about these things..." Jason babbled.

Ian just nodded encouragingly, "I'm sure he knew," he told Jason soothingly, but his wide eyes, and tense hold on his coffee cup betrayed him.

"How do you know my brother?" Jason asked before he even knew he was thinking it. The man was visibly upset, and it was a shock to see someone he didn't even know, so affected by his brother's condition. He owed the man opposite him for removing him from the waiting room full of equally miserable people, all devastated by the accident. He had slowly been introduced to approximately ten people in rapid succession, most of whose names he had now forgotten.

A couple had stood out though. For instance Don Eppes, whom looked nothing like his voice on the phone had suggested. He had dark messy hair atop a long kind face. His long stubble and rumpled appearance suggested that he'd been in the hospital since the accident, watching over Colby like he'd promised he would on the phone that night. Strangely the gesture had touched Jason, especially as Don looked absolutely knackered. He'd been lying awkwardly across two chairs, mouth open and slack from a fitful sleep when Jason had arrived.

Jason also remembered when Don had introduced him to Liz Warner, a woman who was breathlessly beautiful, and apparently his brother's girlfriend. She was wearing a yellow sundress that was equally as rumpled as Don's, suggesting she too had never left his brother's side. Her normally glamorous eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her long brown hair was plaited behind her. Seeing Jason had caused her to cry hysterically, _probably because Colby and I always looked so alike,_ Jason had mused silently as a tall curly haired woman attended her pain-stricken friend.

Eventually it had all been too much for Jason. He'd felt suffocated under the weight of their love and loyalty, that was when Ian had stepped in, suggesting they go for coffee. Jason had felt bad about leaving his brothers side so soon after fighting so hard to be there, but he needed time to gather his scattered thoughts. Anywhere away from the grieving agents was preferable.

"I've worked with Don and his team in the past," Ian eventually broke into Jason's thoughts, answering a question Jason had asked, but couldn't for the life of him remember.

"We're you close?" Jason asked with a sudden perverse need to know everything about Colby's life and who this man had been to him.

"I'd take a bullet for him," Ian's eyes crackled with grief and for a moment Jason was completely stunned. "I've been staying at his apartment for the last two months whilst he was undercover. Usually I'd be fine with a tent, but Colby had insisted, he said we'd go camping when the investigation was over," Ian smiled wistfully at the memory.

"He always did love camping," Jason smiled ruefully. "I think it was because it was the one time when my father would be nice to us. He spoilt us in the woods of Idaho. It was like our sanctuary away from him and his losing battle with finding work."

"Yeah, he told me about some of that recently," Ian scowled at the memory.

"He opened up? About his past, now that's unlikely of my brother," Jason shook his head, but smiled in response.

"Not long ago I got into a spot of trouble. They thought I'd murdered someone and put me in jail. Meanwhile, the fugitive I was hunting was hiding in the prison system and if I didn't get Charlie, Don's brothers, help then I knew I was screwed. I broke out and took Colby as my hostage." Ian's face crumpled with grief.

"You took my brother hostage?" Jason said in awe and wonder of the man in front of him.

"I knew that Don would do anything to protect Colby, and I think deep down Colby knew I wouldn't shoot him either. It came close in the end but as you can see from my being here, everything turned out fine. We found the suspect and everyone went home happy." Ian smiled broadly at Jason, "Dave, Colby's old partner, was so angry at me for taking Colby hostage; he still won't speak to me."

"I don't remember meeting a Dave?" Jason replied confused.

"He's in DC now, got a promotion. It hit Colby pretty hard, they were best friends and now, well some relationships just don't survive long distance. You need practice with that sort of thing. You should meet him soon enough though; Liz phoned him and told him what happened. He's getting the first flight out of DC that's available." Ian told him thoughtfully.

"Mmm," Jason replied deep in thought.

"He's a good man you know? I've only known him a few years," Ian said sincerely, "but I'd trust Colby with my life, nay, have trusted Colby with my life on more than one occasion. He's a better man than most of us," Ian sighed mournfully, and Jason couldn't take it anymore.

"Any other day I would have agreed, but I don't know that man," Jason said, feeling a strong urge to make this strange man understand. Everyone spoke about their love for Colby, what a great guy he is, but the image didn't gel with the realisation that his brother had been alive for five years, and had never sought contact once. He knew that he'd told Colby he was dead to him, but it was an argument, people always say stuff they don't mean in the heat of the moment. "He looks like my brother," he tried to explain, "but I keep telling myself that the Colby I know would never have pretended to be dead. I don't know the man in that room."

"I can't begin to talk for Colby, but I did time in Afghanistan, around the same time as Colby. Stuff happens over there. It changes a man, and from what we understand, more went on over there for Colby than even we were aware," Ian replied picking at the seam of his Levis.

"He had it bad?" Jason asked in genuine concern.

"Something about an automobile accident," Ian said, screwing his face up in as he tried to remember the rest.

"He was trapped under a Humvee," Jason supplied, "they sent him home to recover, we fought that day. He was desperate to go back out there, and nothing I did or said was going to stop him. I figured that he would change his mind once he'd recovered. But I'll be damned if he hadn't been counting down the days to get back out there. I told him that he'd almost died, was he not going to be happy till they brought his body back in a coffin?"

"It's not uncommon for soldiers to feel they're abandoning their comrades. You go through hell with your team; I can't imagine anything worse than staying home whilst they put their lives on the line every day." Ian sighed regretfully.

"Colby felt the same. When I suggested he stay home, he got this look in his eyes, like thunderous pain. It genuinely frightened me. Our mother was sick at the time, and only getting sicker. I asked him what was more important, his family or his troops. He punched me in the face at that. Said that his troops were his family," Jason swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. "I told him that if he walked out that door, then there was no point coming back, he was dead to me." Unbeknownst to Jason, hot tears began to leak down his cheeks into his lap where he was twisting his hands in remorse.

"He wasn't going back to the troops," Ian cut into Jason's guilt trip.

"Pardon?" Jason said, remembering he wasn't alone, and wiping furiously at his face.

"We found out recently that his wife died in that accident. Before he was shot he said something about the war changing him. That Hannah, that was her name, had saved him. When the war tore his family apart, she stepped in and became his family. She was beaten to death by insurgents' right in front of his eyes, whilst he was trapped under that Humvee. He went back to get revenge."

"I...I...can't believe he, he went back to avenge his wife? No wonder he punched me, I would have punched me. His face was so murderous when he decked me that I actually flinched. I saw a light go out behind his eyes in that moment. He stepped back and headed for the door, that's when I told him that he was dead to me." Jason said in wonder. "I can't believe that he wouldn't come back, surely he knew that I was hurt, angry, I didn't mean it."

"I remember coming back from Afghanistan," Ian replied, caught up in his own reverie, "I was struck with a fear, more intense than I had ever come across over there. I knew that I had changed and not for the better. I was cold, aloof and I knew that the boy that my family had sent to Afghanistan was dead. I couldn't face the thought of my mother's eyes sagging sadly when she realised that her son was dead."

"What did you do?" Jason asked horrified at the well of emotion in the man's voice. Jason was a complete stranger, but for Colby he was opening up old wounds, telling truths best buried, and Jason felt a strange moment of bonding pass between them.

"I wrote her a letter telling her I was back, and working for the FBI as a sniper expert tracking down fugitives from justice," Ian smiled wistfully, "I was a legend in Afghanistan you know? And I think I only took the job so I couldn't go home, couldn't put down roots. Now I'm just old and set in my ways. My idea of a five star hotel is an insulated sleeping bag."

"So you never went home?" Jason asked, trying to cover his appalled expression with his hands.

"I went home," Ian told him, tapping the table with his long fingers, lost in thought. "It took me three years, but I went home. I imagine Colby would have too if he hadn't been working as a counter intelligence agent, trying to find a leak in the department of justice."

"CIA? My brother was CIA?" Jason said stuck between pride and disproval.

"Had everyone here confused I can tell you," Ian laughed suddenly. "Everyone thought he was a double agent for the Chinese."

"The Chinese..." Jason replied overwhelmed as he picked his cold coffee up and took a sip.

"He received the FBI Medal of Meritorious Conduct," Ian said proudly, "had his pick of positions, but he asked to stay with Don's team...I think he likes LA, even if his distrust of LA is legendary."

"So he stayed in LA, no longer CIA, and never called home once. He maybe LA's hero, his 'distrust of LA legendary', but to me he's still a stranger." Jason told Ian, his eyes burning hot with jealousy at the ease and affection Ian spoke of Colby.

"Jase-"

"-I think I'd better get back to my brother," Jason said curtly.

After a moment, Ian sighed and got up, "No problem," he smiled sadly as he gestured for Jason to follow him. Together they abandoned their cold coffees and walked back to Colby's room in silence.

*4 Hours Later*

FOR A WHILE Colby lay content. Drifting in an out of consciousness, he floated in a haze of intrigue and terror. For what felt like days now, Colby had been plagued by disturbing images he could only describe as nightmares. They chased him as he jumped seamlessly from one dream to another. For now, it was dark, everywhere, an inky sea in which he floated effortlessly. Colby liked the solitude of the dark; it was the only time he felt at peace from his nightmares.

Letting his mind separate from his body, Colby sighed contentedly as he drifted away on a cloud of indifference. He didn't know why but he felt the urge to rest. After what felt like an eternity of endless drifting, Colby felt his body lurch as the familiar darkness melted away and he was thrust once more at the muzzle of a gun. Of all his nightmares this was the one that come back to him the most.

Mesmerised, he watched again as the muzzle flared an angry crimson behind his eyelids, and watched in horror as the bullet was projected towards its intended target. Without warning he felt the familiar stirring of unadulterated adrenalin surge through his knackered body. Leaping forwards, Colby enveloped someone in his embrace as they crashed to the hard surface beneath them. At the same time igniting a fuse of pain that exploded in his lower back, that knocked the air from his lungs.

Howling in pain, Colby felt his muscles contract and go rigid, all he knew was pain and it flooded his consciousness, causing his eyes to flutter open. The glare of the white pristine room hurt his sensitive eyes. He closed them again hastily, seeking solitude in the darkness beneath his eyelids, as the first pricks of panic started to arise. He had no idea where he was, or what time it was. Everywhere he felt pain, it flooded his murky thoughts, and all he knew was the ripping intensity in his lower back.

It was hard to think straight through the panic, but Colby pushed his tired and confused mind through the pain and panic, and concentrated all of his energy on what he'd seen. From his brief glimpse, Colby had summarised that he was in hospital, which explained the unbearable throbbing in the small of his back. What it didn't explain was how he'd gotten here or how he'd hurt himself.

Casting his mind back, Colby remembered the anger that had boiled inside of him as he'd snatched his recent assignment off of Don. He was to go undercover to retrieve something, but what it was escaped Colby at this time. Letting it drop Colby tried to remember what had happened next. He was in the locker room, angry and alone and then…nothing. The rest was a mystery.

_Maybe the investigation went south? _Colby pondered to himself, unable to think of another reasonable explanation for his predicament. One thing was clear, he couldn't stay here. He needed answers, which unfortunately meant opening his eyes and getting out of bed.

Wrenching his eyes open once more, Colby took a long hard look at his surroundings. The room was unbearably white and clean, however, there was a large burst of colour by the window. Flowers of every type, colour and size were vying for space on the small window ledge. Baskets and vases, all toppling over one another, the smell was intoxicating. Apart from the flowers and machinery, the room was bare.

Trying to sit up, Colby felt his weak arms give way, the excursion causing his heart rate to climb and an irritating beeping to go into overdrive. Unused to being so helpless, Colby tried again, this time swinging his legs out at the same time, however, either Colby was hallucinating or his legs didn't move.

Colby felt a strange rushing in his ears as he looked down at his useless legs. _Move, _he pleaded silently, unsure on how to proceed. _MOVE, _he told them more forcefully as if he could move them with sheer will power alone. It didn't matter though, they wouldn't budge. Suddenly an intense wave of grief rolled over Colby as the full force of the situation dawned on him.

He couldn't feel his legs. He was paralysed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

*3 Weeks Later*

SHIFTING RESTLESSLY, Alan's shattered body yearned for the sweet release of sleep. Regardless sleep never came. _Still, acknowledging it's the first step,_ Alan's exhausted brain joked silently, and opening his tired eyes in defeat, Alan waited as they adjusted themselves to the dreary darkness of his old bedroom. Scrubbing his weary face with his hands, Alan watched as the storm, which had taken over LA days ago, continued to rage viciously outside his bedroom window.

Together the wind howled ferociously as forked lighting set the sky ablaze with menacing light. When Charlie had been a young boy he'd been deathly afraid of thunder and lightning. Alan smiled at the memory of Charlie's little face scrunched up in fear beneath a mop of erratically curly hair. All of Alan's reassurances had fallen upon deaf ears. Eventually, after some carryon on Charlie's behalf, Don would open his bedroom door and say "Get in here Chuck; we'll ride it out together." It was these precious moments, when Charlie's intelligence was stripped away, when Charlie was nothing more than Don's younger brother, which Alan had cherished in those early years. Alan knew that it was difficult for his eldest son to accept his younger brother's obvious genius, and for the longest time, a phenomenal rift had separated his two very different sons, which had only been enhanced when his late wife, Margret, had passed away in 2004.

When Don joined the FBI in 1995, Alan had been devastated that Don would be moving away to Detroit. It saddened Alan, even now, with how much he had missed out on, especially how the distance had obliterated Don and Charlie's fragile relationship completely. When Don left Detroit to go into fugitive recovery Alan had been angry, it was as if Don believed himself to be invincible. Alan's worst fear had been that Don would die and his two sons would be estranged forever.

When Don had transferred back to LA in 2002, Alan had been delirious with joy. Although at the time, unbeknownst to Alan, Don's career in the FBI had given his two sons the means in which to rebuild their tentative relationship. Even though it had taken more years than Alan was happy with, he had conceded that with a common goal to unite them they had become the best of friends. Together over the years that proceeded, they had thrived as a family, and it was this victory that Alan celebrated the most.

Now, however, in the solitude of his old bedroom, with a monstrous storm raging outside, Alan began to consider the events of the previous three months. His thoughts automatically flew to the moment when Charlie and Amita had tied the knot. Thinking back, he remembered the way his chest had swelled with pride, it had been the happiest day of his life, next to his own wedding day. Don had had announced his promotion and forthcoming engagement to Robin. Life had seemed to be propelling forwards at an alarming rate, and Alan looked forward to the happiness and inevitable grandkids to come. Nevertheless it hadn't happened that way.

Alan traced the suffering back to when Charlie had left for England. With no real expiry date on Charlie's trip, Alan had felt an uncharacteristic loneliness. Don was swamped with work, and overdoing it Alan felt. The house which usually encompassed a whole host of guests, now stood silent and empty. With nothing else to do Alan had thrown everything he'd had into planning and renovating the garage into his new living quarters. For a couple of months Alan had dreamed nonstop of the inevitable moment when Charlie and Amita would come home. He would be living in his new flat and Charlie's reappearance would bring his other absent son home from work. It was a silly dream, and Alan scolded himself every time his selfish mind would deflect back to it.

_Was it so much to ask?_ He thought sadly as he listened to the grumble of thunder, reflecting his own bad mood, a_ll I want to do is watch a game with my two sons._ After having devoted so much time to the renovation, Alan was at a loss for what to do next. The garage, although still in need of some decorating, had been finished weeks ago. Nevertheless before he could properly move in and enjoy the fruits of his labour, Colby had been horrendously injured.

Alan shivered thinking about the fear he'd initially felt upon hearing about the accident. Alan watched the rain streaming down the window like tears, he felt appalled at his relief that it hadn't been Don. Although in those early years Alan's fears had never been realised, he still harboured the fear that one day an officer would come to his door and tell him that his son was dead. The relief that his wayward son was ok had struck him with all the subtlety of a sledge hammer. Nonetheless his relief had only been short lived. He considered Colby family, he loved him like a son, and his injury had shaken the group to its very foundations. Alan couldn't bear the thought of the fallout that would occur from the devastating event. It seemed everyone had been affected in their own way, and although Don hadn't been physically hurt, Alan could visibly see the toll that Colby's paralysis was taking on his son's conscience.

In the few days that Colby had lain unconscious, oblivious to the torment in the waiting room, Alan had helplessly watched as his son slowly sank into a pit of despair. He adamantly refused to leave Colby's side until Colby's brother turned up. "I promised him I wouldn't let him die!" Don had shouted angrily on one particular occasion. Alan had stopped trying after that, instead he made sure a steady flow of coffee reached his son and prayed that Colby would wake up sooner rather than later, for both their sakes.

Alan sighed mournfully as he remembered Colby's desperate cries of anguish upon waking up. Unable to remember the miserable two months leading up to his injury Colby had been confused and angry. Although it was silly, Alan envied Colby's apparent amnesia. _If I could block out the last two months I would, _Alan mused silently to himself as he stared unhappily at the ceiling.

Upon the doctor's announcement that most cases of temporary paralysis are reversed within the first week or two, Colby, although initially shocked, had presented a united front of strength and optimism. His unequivocal belief that his paralysis was only temporary had carried them all through the next two weeks of physiotherapy, and anti-inflammatories, and, although it remained unsaid, they had all waited with baited breath for the miraculous moment when the numbness would disappear, and feeling would return. Neither of which had happened.

Although the swelling was reducing in size, Colby remained paralysed, and for the first time he had been presented with the fact that he may never fully recover. Alan had watched despondently as with each passing day Colby had deflated a little more, his earlier optimism now escaping him. The biggest blow had come a week later when he'd been discharged from the hospital. Because Colby's quiet confidence in his own recovery, no one had seriously considered what would happen if the feeling in his legs had not returned, forcing him to leave the hospital in a wheelchair.

Inevitably, that was what had happened. Unable to go home because his own flat was on the top floor of a small town house, Colby had been forced to move into Charlie's renovated garage, and frustrated at his inability to recall the months leading up to and including the hostage situation, Colby sat in limbo, grieving for the loss of memory and legs. The only redeeming feature of the past three weeks, Alan mused, was that Colby and his own brother had been able to forge their own new tentative relationship.

Jason was a nice lad, Alan had thought upon meeting this unknown relative of Colby's. He visited them daily, and although Colby refused entry to most visitors, he'd always taken time to see his brother. Touched as he was by the brotherly reunion, Alan was equally heartbroken each time Colby demanded he turn Liz away. Unaware that he had started a relationship with Liz, Colby was oblivious to how much his dismissals were hurting her. It was only the doctor's recommendation that they don't overwhelm Colby with news of his missing memories that had kept Alan from screaming the truth about Liz and his relationship. "Not today love," Alan would tell her, patting her arm in what he hoped was a reassuring manor. "He's just not feeling up to visitor's today," he would lie. With unshed tears she would nod and leave. _One day,_ Alan considered,_ she won't come back, and Colby will be devastated. _Nevertheless, unable to make Colby realise this, he vowed to repeat the distressing scenario till Colby came to his senses or Liz left, whichever came first.

Although Don had taken to sleeping in his old bedroom at the house, Colby, picking up on Don's guilt, refused to see him most days. In fact, if it hadn't been his house, Alan was sure that Colby would have refused to see him to. Unable to know how to help Colby, Alan had appointed himself Colby's personal caregiver. If there was anything he could do to make Colby's life easier he was doing it. Most of the time Colby, refused to or barely acknowledged the strain Alan was putting upon himself. It was no wonder he couldn't sleep, the miserable atmosphere in the house mimicked the storm outside, and Alan couldn't sleep for the stress of it all.

All of a sudden a loud crash sounded from downstairs, pulling Alan out of his silent reverie. With haste he adorned his old tattered dressing gown and raced downstairs to find the source of the loud crash. After a quick inspection of the living room, and haven found nothing out of order, Alan began to wonder if his tired mind was playing tricks on him. It was half two in the morning, and Alan figured a warm glass of milk might help soothe his jagged nerves.

The sight that greeted him in Charlie's small kitchen stunned Alan. Colby, unshaven and in desperate need of a wash, lay prostrate on the kitchen floor, glass shattered all around him. Next to him, the wheelchair lay splayed on its side, one wheel slowly turning. Colby, not unconscious as Alan had first assumed, held a large bottle of gin out to Alan and asked "Drink?" completely unaware of the havoc he had created, and too drunk to care.

"I'll go get Don," Alan told Colby as he righted the wheelchair, and took the bottle of gin from him.

"Hey!" Colby called out in outrage as Alan made his way back up the staircase with the gin to Don, his body sagging in despair at the new turn of events.

*The Next Day*

"YOU'VE BEEN awfully quiet," Charlie observed and only half reproached, "You haven't heard a word I've said." Charlie, whom had been in England for the past three months, was disappointed to find that the weather had followed him home. After a soggy three months, he had been rather hoping LA would be blisteringly hot. Instead he had been greeted by a rainbow of umbrellas, each fellow traveller looking wetter than the next. The storm had wreaked havoc on his flight, and after having been stranded in Main for the last day and half, Charlie was so jetlagged that he hadn't been prepared for the astounding change in his brother's appearance.

Usually dressed in a fresh suit, Charlie was surprised to see Don in an ancient concert t-shirt and jeans, an old battered leather jacket his only shield against the downpour of rain outside. He'd lost weight too, Charlie noticed, and it didn't look healthy on his normally athletic build. His skin was pale underneath his tan, and his dark hair was a mess. Don, whom had always complained in the past when his hair had grown long enough to touch his collar, now appeared unaware that it was flopping into his tired eyes, only marginally covering the dark circles beneath them.

"Sorry," Don replied absently, pulling Charlie's mind back to the present. With mounting apprehension, Charlie inspected Don as he drove onwards in brooding silence. His whole body looked as if it was caving inwards, his shoulders sagged in defeat, and dejectedly he rested his head against the arm he had propped up against the driver's door of his Chevy. Charlie, who had not seen Don so tense since the Crystal Hoyle case, was worried sick. "I've got a lot on my mind at the moment," Don replied as if reading Charlie's mind. Reaching up, Don scratched at the stubble encompassing his strong jaw, missing Charlie's look of concern completely.

"Oh," Charlie replied as they lapsed back into awkward silence. Unbeknownst to Don, Alan had told Charlie about the toll the new job was taking out on Don, but Charlie had refused to believe it. "Sure, Don's a workaholic Dad;" Charlie had told Alan indignantly, "But Don hasn't missed a game in his life! I wouldn't worry." But now it appeared Charlie had been wrong, and they really should be worrying.

"Bloody weather," Don cursed under his breath as he changed gears, and pulled Charlie's attention back on him.

"I thought England was bad," Charlie joked in the hopes of provoking a small smile. Don, however, remain unmoved. Giving up, Charlie slumped lower in his seat and watched as the spray from the road made it impossible to see more than two meters in front of them.

Letting out a deep breath, Don said, "It's a shame about Amita," after a long enough pause had passed.

"She really wanted to be here," Charlie agreed, "but they couldn't find anyone to cover her lectures." Charlie, who had missed CalSci within the first five minutes of lecturing at Cambridge, had been amused at how quickly Amita had taken to it all. "She was made for that program," Charlie replied with a secret smile.

"And you?" Don hesitated, refusing to look at his younger brother, "will you miss it?"

If he shut his eyes Charlie could almost picture Amita's face as they had entered Cambridge University. It was a truly spectacular old building, the likes of which you just didn't find in LA. Charlie had looked at the building before them and seen history made flesh, or concrete in this case. Little had he known, but at the same time Amita had seen their future.

"It's different over there," Charlie replied after some thought, "I suppose I will miss the history they have. The stunning architecture, but it's good to be almost home again." Charlie concluded unaware of the waver in Don's voice and the torrent of emotion hidden behind his dark eyes.

"It's good to have you home Chuck," Don gave Charlie a bitter sweet smile, the first of many Charlie hoped.

The tired look on Don's face and his general lack of presence, however, sent Charlie's heart racing with fear. His past relationship with Don had never been easy at the best of times, when they were younger Charlie had always craved his brother's approval. It hadn't been a picnic growing up and being valedictorian of his brother's graduating class at age thirteen with eight years separating him from the rest of his class.

Nevertheless his work with the FBI had changed all that, no one had been happier than Charlie when in an interview for his new book Don had described them as being stronger than brothers, but friends. He'd been so touched that he'd kept the article tucked away safely in a draw in his desk at CalSci.

Regardless, leaving for England had opened a small rift between them, and having gotten used to seeing his brother every day, Charlie had been sad to only get the odd chance to speak over the phone. Whether because of time differences or busy schedules, Charlie had only spoken to Don a couple of times over the last three months, the most recent being the one informing him of Colby's condition. His first reaction had been to hop on the first flight out of England, however, he'd had to find a replacement lecturer and then with the storm causing his flight to be first diverted, and then grounded, Charlie had begun to wonder if he'd ever make it home.

It troubled Charlie that his brother seemed incapable of looking him in the eye, "I think it's time we stop avoiding the giant elephant in the car," Charlie told Don directly, causing him to flinch, "how he is coping?"

"Last night Dad found him drunk on the kitchen floor," Don told Charlie bluntly, matching Charlie's own direct tone. "It took us forever to get first him, and then the kitchen cleaned up, didn't help that he resisted us and ended up cutting himself in several places."

Charlie watched as Don's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he brought Charlie up to date of the ordeal of the past three months in horrifying detail.

"Oh," Charlie said eventually when Don had finished. Charlie stared intently out the window, ashamed at his brother's actions, but too afraid to tell him. Next to him, Don, disheartened by Charlie's obvious discomfort and disproval, continued to drive in brooding silence.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

*Later That Same Day*

"ARGH! _SHIT!_ It's six a.m. for _Christ's_ sake!" Colby protested as Charlie, mercilessly ripped back the curtains, allowing what little sunlight there was to fill the gloomy room.

"_P.m._" Charlie replied unashamedly as he crossed over to Colby and stripped the covers back, "Come on, up you get," Charlie said more gently this time, "We're going out! You need the fresh air…and a _bath_ because frankly, you smell like ass," Charlie held his nose for emphasis, "anyone told you that you're stinking up the place?"

"Inside voice," Colby cringed at Charlie's loud announcement, "my head is killing me!" Colby, who had the biggest hangover known to man, pulled his rumpled pillow over his unshaved face and groaned. He was too hung-over to ponder over Charlie's miraculous appearance.

"Well if you didn't attack dad's liquor cabinet you wouldn't be hung-over," Charlie informed Colby reproachfully. "Now come on, we're going out and you need to clean up first. Drink this and take these and you'll be right as rain," Charlie said with more daring than he felt as he held out a glass of water and two aspirin.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Colby groaned as Charlie snatched the pillow from his grasp, and without thinking hit Colby on the legs to get him moving. The gesture, although intended innocently, nevertheless caused Colby to freeze as once more the realisation that he was paralysed slammed against his chest like a sledge hammer, setting off a firecracker of emotion.

Ever since '_the incident', as Colby had overheard Don call it once,_ Colby had enjoyed a few dreams in which he was running, putting foot to pavement, and enjoying the rush of adrenaline that coursed throughout his _healthy_ body. Cruelly, every morning he awoke to this nightmare called life, where his body had become a broken shell within which he now found himself imprisoned. _Is it any wonder I like a drink every now and again?_ Colby thought mutinously.

If Charlie realised the turmoil of emotion he'd rekindled in Colby he wasn't showing signs of it. "Where are we going?" Colby asked after consuming the water and aspirin ravenously, "hopefully somewhere with a fry up?" He asked optimistically.

"No, but dad might be persuaded when we get back," Charlie plastered a smile on his face to hide the obvious discomfort he felt watching Colby struggle from his bed to the wheelchair. "Let me help you!"

Charlie hurried to his side, but Colby slapped his helping hand away. "I've got it," he replied harshly through gritted teeth. "Why don't you give me half an hour to wash?" Colby supplied more gently at Charlie's shocked expression, and waited till Charlie had left the room before struggling once more to get into the chair.

*break*

"WHAT ARE WE doing _here_?" Colby looked up at Charlie accusingly.

"It's where you bought me," Charlie replied looking out at the stunning view before them, "that time I couldn't work because I was terrified at having been followed and chased by that car."

"Yeah," Colby replied as he sat and Charlie stood in companionable silence, "it's one of my favourite spots…" The city of Los Angeles lay sprawled before them. Colby liked the remote car park because not many people visited the overlook, leaving it a nice spot for one to do some soul searching. He'd wanted to come here, but unable to drive he'd been too proud to ask someone else to drive him. "I can't believe you remembered that," Colby shook his head in disbelief.

"I needed someone and only you got through…this place it's so…" Charlie said, his arm sweeping to cover the scenic view before them.

"Serene?" Colby supplied, as he ran his hands through his damp hair.

"Do you remember what you said to me that day?" Charlie asked turning to observe Colby, his intent gaze taking in Colby's freshly shaven pale face, the dark smudges that shadowed his eyes, and the lines of tension furrowing his brow.

"No," Colby replied self-consciously under Charlie's scrutinising gaze, "I would have said anything to help Bonnie," Colby told Charlie bluntly, referring to Bonnie Parks the TV reporter whom had gone missing at the time. Unable to hold Charlie's disappointed gaze, Colby started to pick at the frayed edge of a hole in his worn Levis, making the slit bigger, and only stopping when his knee poked through.

"Well I do," Charlie stormed on, ignoring Colby's obvious discomfort, "You told me that 'you can't just keep it all locked up inside your head. You can't just keep going around telling everyone your fine'."

"What if you are fine?" Colby retorted.

"You're not fine Colby," Charlie mumbled as he turned once more to take in the scenery. "I have a kitchen and an empty liquor cabinet that tells me so," Charlie crossed his arms, his face hidden.

At Charlie's words heat began to creep up Colby's neck making him hot with shame, "it was one bad night."

"_One _bad night?" Charlie looked disbelievingly at Colby's haggard appearance.

Although he had endured a gruelling regiment of physiotherapy during his stay in hospital, Colby was only too aware that he had lost a lot of weight; his jeans were practically hanging off of him. He shifted uncomfortably at the weight of Charlie's frown. "Yes _one_," Colby replied angrily but his voice lacked the conviction.

"Colby…" Charlie's voice crackled with grief, causing Colby to turn away as he sat doubtfully down on the small barricade, arms crossed. "You can't keep pushing us all away," he said after a moment, "you just _can't_."

"LOOK," Colby replied more aggressively than he'd meant to, "I can't control this…this THING that's going on inside my head," Colby said, leaning back in the chair and mimicking Charlie's crossed arms and stern expression, "you want to know the truth," he said aggressively, "I don't know how I feel."

"You don't?" Charlie raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"No, I'm too numb to _feel_ anything." Colby replied quietly.

Knowing from experience that when you want someone to open up you have to keep quiet and let them bridge the gap in the conversation, Charlie waited patiently for Colby to continue.

"I tell a lie, I do have this pain…in my chest, and its killing me…I haven't been sleeping well _at all_. Sometimes I get these amazing dreams where I'm running…but most the time I can't sleep at all. There are _these monsters_ that…that dance across my eyelids whenever I close them," Colby stopped to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "I can't sleep and I can't stop thinking about it. I can't even play 'what if' because I can't _remember_ what happened. Sure I get flashes, but I don't really _know_. No one will tell me either. It's like the last three months were a terrible nightmare that I can't stop thinking about. It's ridiculous because I don't know what led me to go into that Kmart. I don't shop at Kmart's Charlie. Why was I there? And what do I do next? I don't know what to do, I just don't know anything anymore…"

"Everyone is against it, but if it's what you truly want then _I_ can tell you what happened in those two months. Why you were in the Kmart." Shaking his head, Colby watched in disbelief as a host of conflicting emotions crossed Charlie's round face. A mixture of anger and disproval, met with guilt. In that brief moment, Charlie's pinched face resembled Don's own look of guilt for the past three weeks, that it was an effort not to laugh at the absurdness and irony of it all.

"They told you?" Colby replied in uneven tones. "You were in England for Christ's sake, but they let _you_ in on all the gory details? Tell me are they _good?_" Colby added cruelly, "Were they worth the flight over?"

Taken aback, almost as if Colby had physically stuck him, Charlie rushed to reassure Colby, "they said the doctor recommended that they don't pressure you. Your memory was supposed to comeback over time…" Charlie hesitated uncertain.

"They also said that feeling was meant to comeback in my legs over time," Colby replied his voice leaden with scorn. "But it hasn't," Colby replied, his voice steely in his resentment.

"I'm sorry," Charlie stumbled, disheartened by his friends anger.

"I DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKING PITY!" Colby yelled as he directed all his pent up fury at Charlie, his hands hitting his dead legs in frustration. The next moment he spoke so quietly that Charlie had to lean forwards to catch it, "I just want the _truth_." His anger deserting him, Colby sagged in defeat.

After a moment's hesitation and a furtive look at Colby's distressed face, Charlie decided that keeping Colby in the dark wasn't an option anymore. "You were undercover for two months trying to take down a known gun trafficker. You were ordered to prove they were selling cop killing ammunition." Charlie supplied weakly in an attempt to appease Colby.

"I know all that, my last memory is taking my cover Id and entering the locker room." Colby replied patiently as he too studied the horizon intently, afraid that Charlie might stop.

"Well according to Don there was an incident involving your CI. The man you were after found out he was an FBI spy, and ordered that you and a couple others beat him up and kill him to set an example of what happens to snitches in his gang." Charlie said, getting up and turning his back to Colby as he looked out on the city below.

"Did I? Help them hurt my CI I mean," Colby's voice came out unsteady, and he hated the weakness it exposed. He couldn't believe what Charlie was saying. He knew that even undercover he would never do such a thing. And yet, Charlie was telling him that he had. Colby couldn't stand not remembering.

"Yes…yes you did. Don tells me you got him out alive. He was sent to intensive care. He died three nights later from internal complications," Charlie's voice betrayed his loathing, breaking Colby's heart. _He can't even look at me,_ Colby thought in horrified despair. "Apparently that night you went to Don, and asked out of the case. You were angry at how far Don was pushing you for a result, so you took the evidence you had and demanded out."

"And?" Colby asked ashamed with his own actions.

"And…_Don_ demanded that you stay undercover to find the bullets!" Charlie swivelled round, the anger crackling in his soft brown eyes, his disgust clearly reserved for his brother.

"That's why Don's been acting guilty these past few weeks," Colby mused, "he ordered me to stay in, and I ended up in that Kmart and got shot."

"No, you were in that Kmart because earlier that morning you secured the conviction. You testified in his trial. Afterwards you and Liz went out on a date, and on your way back you stopped at the Kmart for money. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Charlie replied sympathetically.

"And the shooter?" Colby asked after a long pause, unable to trust his own voice.

"A widower who tried to rob the shop whist you were in it," Charlie replied in sympathy, "a situation occurred between a detective and the shooter. You jumped in the way and saved the man's life."

"I took the bullet for someone else…" Colby replied in wonderment.

"Yes, you're a hero, I know you don't feel one, but the detective had a family. Wife and two young daughters." Charlie, smiled with admiration, but Colby definitely didn't feel like a hero.

"Did he see my gun or something? The shooter that is," Colby replied unable to believe it all, it was too much.

"No, you had left your gun in Liz's car when you went into the restaurant."

"Liz…no wonder she keeps coming to the house…" Colby said, practically ignoring Charlie as everything he'd just been told swam around inside his head at a rate of knots. "Was she…was she in the shop with me?" Colby asked hesitantly, the thought that anything might have happened to Liz brought a lump of fear to his throat. He couldn't remember the situation, but for some reason he could picture her terrified face. She was screaming at him, her face streaked with tears. At that moment Colby wanted nothing more than to reach out for her and pull her into his protective embrace. Except he was imprisoned in a wheelchair, and as far as Colby was concerned the chair acted like a barrier between them. Suddenly the thought of seeing that pitying look, which everyone had been giving him lately, in Liz's eyes, broke his heart.

"No, she was outside in the car. You went in alone. Dad says you refuse to see her…" Charlie enquired softly at the look of terror mixed with bitter resentment on Colby's face.

"I couldn't stand the thought of her seeing me like this," Colby smiled weakly, "I know it hurts her when Alan turns her away…and I know that that's because of me, but I just can't face her in this, this thing," Colby replied thumping his wheelchair in resentment.

"But if you two are seeing each other-"

"-that's just it. As far as my memory knows, I'm not. I had this intimate date with her and I don't remember a thing. My dream comes true, and I'm completely unable to remember a thing! I want her and at the same time I can't face her. Everything you've told me sounds like it could have happened to anyone else!" Colby protested loudly.

"It didn't though, and sooner or later you're going to have to come to terms with that," Charlie said as if addressing an errant child, and ignored the fact that Colby had deliberately changed the subject away from Liz.

"What," Colby replied, his voice heavy with contempt, "come to terms with what exactly? Huh? The fact that I'm out of a _Job_ because I can't walk? Or how's about the _fact_ that I'm homeless BECAUSE I CAN'T CLIMB THE FUCKING STAIRS? My life is over, I know it and you know it. If my legs never recover…"

"Don't say that…" Charlie squeaked in anguish.

"Why? You're all thinking it!" Colby replied harshly, "hell even _I'm_ thinking it. I might be paralysed for_ life_ Charlie. That's not something that you just come to terms with in the course of three weeks."

"I know, but you can't just si…torture yourself either!" Charlie stumbled over the words.

"What I can't _sit_ here, wallowing in self-pity?" Colby replied with a ghost of a smile. "Don't worry Charlie, I'm depressed I not suicidal. I'm not going to kill myself if you're un-PC about it."

"I just, I don't want to hurt you any more than you already are," Charlie said, deflating a little.

"And I really appreciate that Charlie, but right now nothing can take that pain away…except…except" Colby stopped abruptly.

"Except for alcohol," Charlie finished for him, "You don't _need_ it."

"No, what I don't _need_ is my _friends _patronising meand talking to me differently because guess what_ Chuck_ it isn't helping." Colby replied sourly. "It kills me Charlie. To have to rely on others to do the simplest of tasks…I can't put pants on by myself, don't…don't take what little pride I have left."

"I'm really sorry Colby, about everything," Charlie said with unshed tears blurring his eyesight.

"I know you are Charlie, and believe me no one's sorrier than I am. But you were right this morning, getting drunk and causing a scene in your kitchen last night, I'm sorry Charlie…for being ungrateful. I know Alan's trying to help, make things easier…"

"But you'd rather ask for help than have it thrust upon you," Charlie nodded, "I can respect that. I'll have a word with Dad."

"It really has been appreciated Charlie. I mean…he gave his new home up for me. I just…It's hard enough…I'm paralysed but not completely incapable."

"It's ok, really he'll understand. He loves you like a son, your family to us Colby. Don't forget that."

"I won't," Colby smiled wirily thinking of his own family's reappearance in his life. "Have you met my brother yet? You'd like him Charlie," Colby smiled. It hadn't been easy, but Jason had forgiven Colby for the whole 'I'm dead' fiasco. As far as Jason was concerned, Colby almost died for real, and there was no point being deliberately angry and wasting any more time. Colby was alive, and Jason wanted his brother back. Colby felt the same.

"Not yet, but I'm looking forward to meeting your big brother!" Charlie smiled in return.

"I don't want to seem ungrateful Charlie, to you or your dad, but a few days ago I overheard my brother talking to his assistant at the garage. He needs to go home."

"And you're thinking of going with him," Charlie replied resigned.

"Yes, I know it's selfish," Colby looked at Charlie imploringly.

"But you want more time with you estranged brother, trust me if anyone knows how that feels, _I _do." Charlie nodded. "But are you sure it's not too much too soon? You can't sort through all this alone, and you certainly can't go on like you have for the last week!" Charlie replied, gesturing with his hands erratically, "You're displaying all the characteristics of depression and you want the truth? That worries me!"

"I know it does, it scares me shitless too," Colby replied cautiously, he hated admitting weakness. "But as for going through this all alone…I won't have to," Colby replied as he turned his wheelchair around, and started wheeling back towards the car, "I'll have my brother," Colby grinned over his shoulder at Charlie, but faltered at his answering gaze, "I need to tell Don, but then I'm going_ home_ Charlie." Colby, suddenly serious, hoped it would appease Charlie for now.

"I understand," Charlie sighed in defeat, "let's go order dad to make us that fry up!" he replied overly bight. And without any further protest Charlie followed Colby back to the car. Only helping Colby when he asked, and eventually climbing in after him. Pressing play on the stereo, Charlie put the car in gear, and Colby tried not to resent his friend for his ability to still be able to drive.

*break*

"WHAT DO YOU mean he's not here?" Liz shouted, slightly hysterically.

"I mean he came home with Charlie about an hour ago, spoke to me about going home and then…left." Don replied as he gestured for Liz to follow him into the large living room.

"But…why?" She asked as she crumpled into the comfortable sofa. She was dressed casually in a ruby silk shirt and black trousers, but Don suspected more to the outfit. She was so carefully made up that Don assumed she'd come to confront Colby. Having also been refused entry for the past week, Don could sympathise with Liz.

Sitting on the arm of the sofa, Don placed a comforting hand on her soft shoulder, "To be with his brother," He replied softly, "I assume he just needs some time away from here, from LA…from all of us."

"So he's gone?" Liz's eyes began to fill with tears, and her soft lips parted in anger, "That's it? Nothing about coming back?"

"Look, he had a rough night, and Charlie took him out for a long chat. He's been really depressed Liz and next thing I know he's set on leaving immediately. You should have seen him last night! What a mess!" Don rubbed his face tiredly at this, and for a moment Liz felt bad that she was stressing him further.

"What happened?" She asked breathlessly afraid for the worst.

"He got drunk, fell out of his chair trying to reach a gin bottle. He got a few cuts and bruises but he was ok," Don supplied at her worried frown.

"And then he just what? Spoke to your bother and left?" Liz replied, finding it hard to believe.

"Basically, yeah." Don hadn't believed his eyes either when Colby and Charlie had come home, laughing and smiling. It was as if Charlie had broken this evil spell that had been hanging over the house for the past week. "I don't know what Charlie said but it did the trick. He smiled Liz, for the first time in a week Colby smiled at me," Don smiled at the memory of Colby wheeling over to him, two beers dripping droplets of water in his lap. "I apologised, he apologised-"

"-basically you shared a rather touching moment, _how_ lovely for _you,_" Liz cut in scornfully, "Now you don't have to be so guilty that you left him undercover in a potentially dangerous situation just to further your own career! How many bonus points did the cop killer bullets score you with the AD?"

"Look, Liz I know your hurting, and I'm sorry that Colby's treated you so badly. But there's a lot going on that he has to work though. Think about it, the way Colby defined himself for the last, what? Thirteen years, he's been, first a solider, and then a cop. Being paralysed, it's as if he's lost his identity. Right now Colby doesn't know who he is, and though it's hurt a lot of us, he's got to be selfish right now."

"I know all that!" Liz screamed defiantly, "But why can't he work it out here?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't answer that because I don't know," Don pulled her against him as the first wave of tears fell, and slowly rocked her back and forth like a small fragile child. "I'm sorry Liz, I really am."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Hey, Col. Here's a fifty can you go pay for the gas? I need to tweak the radiator," Jason asked Colby as he chucked the note in his brother's lap before getting out of the car. "My poor baby…" Jason mumbled to his dirt coated car as he affectionately stroked the bonnet of his precious 73' Dodge Charger. He knew better than to ask Colby if he needed help getting out of the car after having his head bitten off the last few times. "How will I ever become independent in this thing if I'm always being CODDLED?" Colby had shouted irritably, Jason could see he'd hurt his brothers pride. After all it wasn't like he couldn't understand Colby's position. It was bad enough he'd had to help him in in the restrooms whenever they'd needed to stop, his brother just needed to do things as normally and for himself as possible.

It just hurt Jason to see his brother struggle when he could help. _Still he has a point,_ Jason thought as he crouched down to look at the radiator, _after all he might never recover feeling in his legs._ Jason didn't like to think so negatively but his hope had pretty much deserted him when Colby's own bravado and unquestionable optimism had switched with alcohol and depression. "Hey Col, can you grab my tool chest from the floor by your feet. I knew this radiator was leaking…" Jason shouted from his crouched position as he examined the radiator further.

Removing his seat belt and twisting in his seat, Colby reached behind him for the wheelchair Jason had stashed behind the seats. With a little practice, Colby had found the perfect technique to shift from car seat to wheelchair with minimal effort. Besides, what did he care if he knocked his shin on the dash occasionally, it's not like he could feel it. Balancing the heavy tool kit on his legs, Colby wheeled around to his brother's crouched frame, stopping only once to swallow the familiar feeling of pity and inadequacy he felt these days whenever he looked at his older brother.

Almost forty-five, Jason's longish hair was flecked with silver at his temples and his face was lined around the eyes. Otherwise Colby was practically the spitting image of his elder brother. _His face is softer, kinder, _Colby noted as he searched his brother's face for signs of anger or regret. Colby knew he'd forced himself upon his brother, and was only too aware of the burden he placed upon him, _but Jason hasn't said anything…so I guess it's alright…_ "I'll just go pay for the gas," Colby said but his brother was too involved in fixing his car to notice that Colby had wheeled away.

Turning towards the small shop Colby hesitated at the entrance before wheeling over the threshold. It was the first time he'd been to a small shop since the accident. Not that he could remember what the shop looked like. In his dreams it was tiny and oppressive. Closing his eyes it was like Colby was back in the box of a shop with a woman's crying sobs sounding loudly in his ear. That wasn't right, Colby shock his head as if he could shake the memory back into focus. "Can I help you partner?" A voice sounded from close by.

Opening his eyes again Colby noticed the shop assistant eyeing him closely. He was a large rounded man, shadowed by a thin young girl. Colby felt his breath catch in his chest underneath their scrutinising gaze. "G…as," Colby just about managed to squeeze past his teeth. His voice seemed weak even to his own ears.

"You ok?" The girl asked Colby, concern showing on her pock marked face.

But Colby couldn't answer. For some reason his lungs weren't expelling as much air as he was drawing in. Slipping under the counter, the girl came over to Colby and held a small paper bag to his face. "It's ok. Just breath in slowly, hold it and then release it just as slowly," The girl's eyes shone with kindness and concern and Colby let himself fall into her hypnotic gaze as he copied her breathing. In…out…in…out, until he felt he'd gained control once more. "You were hyperventilating," she smiled, her voice as hypnotic as her gaze.

"Er…thanks…erm…pump three…I've got money for the gas…" Colby supplied lamely in response.

"No problem," She smiled kindly once more and without asking took the handles of his wheelchair and moved him over to the counter, "anything else?"

"A large bottle of whiskey," he tried a smile but faltered when he saw his hunched ghostly reflection in the mirror behind the counter, "on second thoughts, make it two."

It was only outside the store once more that Colby realised he'd been shaking the whole time. "Radiator done?" Colby asked Jason roughly. But if his brother noticed the rush of adrenaline coursing through Colby's body, making his skin itch, he didn't mention it.

"It's going to take me some time I'm afraid. Why not try to get a nap in the meanwhile…you look like you haven't slept in a week," Jason bit his lip anxiously.

About to argue, Colby just shook his head and mumbled, "3 weeks," before climbing back into the car and shutting his door. He knew he needed to sleep, his whole body screamed with tiredness. Unscrewing the cap from the first bottle of whiskey, Colby took a large swig before placing his baseball cap over his head, letting the alcohol ebb away at his remaining fear. Slowly as the adrenaline stopped and his body crashed from the effort, he breathed slowly in and out as he waited for the taunting and nightmarish clutch of sleep.

*break*

"_WAIT!" Colby shouted as he placed himself between Sam and the detective. He guessed he had a couple of minutes to convince Sam to put the gun down before SWAT flooded the place and started putting holes in the furniture, or before Sam started putting holes in the hostages, whichever came first. "Listen, just listen to me ok? I understand. You're doing this for your wife. They took her from you and then when you thought you were losing her again you panicked-"_

"_Get out the way Colby," the detective overrode him. _

"_I had no choice," Sam appealed to Colby as he tightened his grip on the gun. "They said I was done. Forty-five years and it's over because I can't make a stupid payment. Is that justice?"_

_Colby raced to head Sam off, "No, it's not, but I, I understand!" _

_Sam looked sceptically at Colby whilst trying to inch around him so his gun aimed at the detective. "How? How could you understand? How could any of you possibly understand?" he shouted at Colby. _

_Looking around him, Colby spotted Hannah and turned to her imploringly, "Help me!" He shouted at her, "Help me make him understand!" But it was too late. The gun went off and pain seared through Colby's back once more as he crumpled, twitching to the ground. _

_Almost as suddenly as it had appeared, the shop scene melted away from him leaving him lying on the ground as if crucified to the floor, his limbs too heavy to lift. "Hannah? HANNAH!" He screamed, tears rushing down his face. But no reply came. Instead the silence taunted him; how long he lay there for he didn't know. _

_Wheezing slightly Colby tried to breathe deeply, and fill his lungs with air but the effort almost caused him to pass out. Yanking his eyes open for the second time in what felt like an eternity, Colby was rewarded with Liz's face, but when it came into focus he noticed the tears streaming down her smooth cheeks, clumsily he tried to brush them away. _

"_It's going to be fine! You're going to be fine," she kept saying as she cradled his head on her lap, stroking his cheek. For a moment Colby let himself sink into the warmth and comfort of her hand on his cheek, blotting out the pain and darkness that was ebbing at his consciousness._

"_You're shivering." Liz stated as she laid down next to his aching body, pressing herself against him for warmth. He was in fact shivering, but not from the cold. It was an odd sensation of pleasure and pain that filled him with both sadness and joy. Closing his eyes, delirious from the weight of her breasts on his chest and only too aware of her hand still stroking his cheek, he felt the black ebbing around his vision once more. "Colby! Stay with me Col. COL, COME BACK TO ME!" this time Liz shivered with him. Colby could hear the panic in her voice but he couldn't hold on to it, he was just so tired. Suddenly pain jerked through his body as a voice shook him and he felt himself being lifted further and further away. _

"Colby? Colby, wake up..." Jason shook him violently.

"LIZ! LIZ! Come back to me Liz," Colby shouted drowsily as he thrashed against his brothers tight embrace.

"Col, Wake up! It's a dream…Liz is in LA." Jason cried as he deflected his brother's lazy fists.

"Jase?" Colby asked as he took in the dark tree lined road around him. "How long have I been out for?"

"A few hours…you were sleeping peacefully…I didn't want to wake you," Jason bit his lip anxiously.

"So why do you look so spooked?" Colby asked, knowing his brother only chewed his lip when afraid. _Shit I really gave him a fright, _Colby thought sadly, _I was wrong to come here with him...but there's nothing back there for me. 'Liz'_ a voice sounded from somewhere in the back of his head but he squashed the feeling almost as quickly as it had taken place. Not even Liz could return him to the man he had once been, _and the man I am now has no right to a future with her, _Colby thought stubbornly.

"Well…" Jason hesitated for a moment at the pain obvious on Colby's tear and sweat stained face, "you started sobbing and clutching at your legs, I was worried…and then you stated screaming for Hannah to help you. I thought you'd quietened down but then you were screaming for Liz. You looked like you were having a seizure" Jason stumbled over his explanation. "Are you ok now?" he asked hesitantly but Colby wasn't listening. The second Jason had mentioned it he'd felt the wetness on his cheeks, and more embarrassingly his arousal from the memory of Liz.

Grabbing a blanket to hide his erection Colby turned away from his brother. Jaw set tight. Sighing, Jason knew it pointless to question his brother further. Pulling back out onto the road, Jason flicked a concerned look at Colby. "We'll be reaching Winchester soon," Jason informed Colby, who grunted in reply. Sighing again Jason put his foot down on the accelerator and prayed for nothing else to go wrong.

*The next night*

It was a warm dark night, and Jason enjoyed the way the wind whipped across his face and bare chest as he gently rocked back and forth on the old crooked porch swing. Their father had promised their mother time and time again that he would repair it, but he never had. _Like a lot of things he promised but never did, _Jason thought bitterly.

Taking a long pull from his beer Jason sighed contentedly. In truth it was his fault the swing had broken in the first place. Him and Colby had been playing space cadets and in his adolescent vigour he'd pulled too hard and the chain on one side had come loose. He smiled to himself as he took another sip from his cold beer. _Life here hadn't been all bad,_ Jason reminded himself.

"What are you smiling about?" A familiar voice asked him briskly. A beautiful voice that when irritated revealed a rich Latino accent.

For a moment he breathed in the smell of her and let the sensation dance across his skin settling with a gentle pull southward. "Ade," he smiled warmly as Adriana sat down next to him on the porch swing. The crooked tilt causing her body to slip and press firmly against his. Yes, he definitely loved this old swing. Maybe that was why his adolescent self had never repaired it.

"Julio told me you were back," She told him primly, if he hadn't known her better he would have missed the note of hurt at having to be told by her son.

"I would have called…" he started, thinking of the best excuse but decided against it. If he'd learnt anything, it was that the truth needed to be told. "I'm sorry," he told her earnestly as he took her soft hand in his and marvelled at how pale his hand looked in comparison to her exotic olive skin. "We only got in last night and it was a long journey. I was worried about him. If you're here about Julio being left in charge, you should know that he did a stand up job managing the place. I hope you didn't mind?"

"Don't worry Jase," she smiled seductively, "I left the frying pan at home."

"That's a relief!" He joked and got a small smack on the arm in return.

"Seriously though, this place…" She gestured at the house.

"I know…" He replied, unable to look at her beautiful pale green eyes.

Giving his hand a squeeze Adriana placed her head on his shoulder, her long sleek black hair tickling his chin. "You told me you'd never come back here," she stated bluntly as she examined her small sandaled feet. That was what Jason loved about her she was never afraid to speak her mind.

"I know, but Colby couldn't get up the stairs to my loft…there was nowhere else. I put the ramp in when mom got ill and needed a wheelchair…" She had died two days later and too grieved to return Jason had paid a neighbour to keep an eye on the old place and clean up once every two months.

"How is he?" Adriana asked softly, squeezing his hand in return.

"Honestly? Not good. He needs help but he's too proud to ask for it," Jason grimaced as he remembered Colby's nightmare.

"Not unlike someone else I know," she smiled at him, but when he didn't reply she asked, "You're really that worried?"

"He's my brother," Jason's hurt gaze flicked to hers, "of course I'm worried."

"No…you're angry," She stated bluntly again.

"Not at you," he sighed, "It's this place."

"You looked happy enough before I turned up," She pouted prettily.

"Trust me I'm better for you being here," Jason tilted her chin until her mouth was inches from his.

"You're avoiding the question," She replied, her voice thick with want.

"What do you want me to say?" Jason replied angrily, the moment lost. "My brother died Ade. He died and I couldn't cope with the grief. Until Julio came to work for me I'd put off socialising. Classed it as something I only did with customers. And then a month ago I was told my brother was alive. That he wasn't dead. That he'd put me through years of hell…knowingly," getting up Jason moved over to the porch rail and looked out at his old neighbourhood. "He said it was for my protection. _He needed me safe_…but…but what about me? What _I needed _was my little brother."

"Well you have him now. What do they say about second chances and all that," Adriana replied, pulling at a loose thread on her soft lemon sundress.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm glad he's alive. No, I'm ecstatic that he's alive. I was so afraid that he would die…after everything…I couldn't lose him a second time."

"And you didn't," Adriana pressed gently, "So what's wrong?"

"I don't know…" Jason pressed his face in his hands, fingers pressed against his eyes.

"Yes you do," she replied, knowing him too well.

"When I saw him in the hospital bed, he was so far removed from the brother I remembered," Jason whispered quietly, almost too quietly. "The accident…all those years, it's not how I'd pictured it would be. He's…he's changed. The wheelchair it's like it defines him now."

"That's understandable," Adriana mused as she crossed her long legs, "He's been paralysed, what a month? He's bound to be upset…he has lost everything after all."

"That's a lie. He lost what? A job? A home? So what, he still has me, Liz and the others. He's the one pushing _us_ away," Jason retorted angrily.

"It doesn't matter, don't you see he lost more than his home and job. Jase… he's lost his identity, his dignity…the only thing he does have is his pride. Or will you not even let him have that?" Adriana asked sternly.

"I…I know I'm being selfish, but right now I have to be," Jason replied, his voice pleading with her to understand.

"Look I get it. You're not the only one to lose a brother…to the war," her voice cracked with unshed tears.

"Ade, I'm sorry. I really am, but I can't help being angry at Colby. For the time we've lost or the time that were wasting now," Jason sighed, suddenly feeling too old and too tired.

Getting up to stand next to him, Adriana slipped a comforting hand under his open shirt and on to the small of his back, "being angry with him for hurting you does not mean you aren't glad he's alive. Or that you love him any less. But for his sake, as well as your own, you need to find a way to move past this. From what you've said… Julio told me Colby looked like a ghost of a man. He told me that if he hadn't seen Colby before in that picture you have in your office then he wouldn't have known that he was your brother, or how young he really is. It sounds to me that Colby needs our support right now. He'll ask for help eventually and if not…then you make him get it. Do you know if there's anyone he'll open up to?"

"Why can't it be me he opens up with?" Jason protested weakly. "There's so much of his life that I've missed…that I need to know about."

"There's still time for you to reconnect but for now you're too close to it all. You want your brother back then you need to find someone that Colby trusts that can give him the help he needs. I don't say it to be cruel, Jase. But Colby…he's putting walls up at the moment and the more you try to scale them the higher and thicker they'll become," Adriana said, turning him to face her. "Maybe someone back in LA will be able to help you find such a person."

"There was someone that Special Agent Epps mentioned…not far from here. Should I tell Colby?" Jason asked as she pressed herself against him and enveloped her in a hug.

"Will he go willingly?" she asked softly. His skin prickled as her warm breath danced across his naked chest, Colby was momentarily shoved from his mind as he looked down at the curvaceous woman with her arms around him. Her soft cheek pressed tenderly against his bare chest.

"Probably not," he replied, struggling to keep his place in the conversation.

"Then give it a couple days, if it gets worse, then ask the agent guy for his help," Adriana smiled, her own lustful eyes matching his.

Stooping down he kissed her passionately. "You're a very smart woman, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Oh yes men chuck complements at me daily," she giggled in response.

"Well I'm going to have to do something about these men then," He grinned boyishly, all signs of his fear and worry cleverly masked.

"Don't worry. I only have eyes for this goofy mechanic that can't even fix his own cell phone."

"He sounds positively dashing…" Jason smiled broadly as he kissed her again.

"Mmm," she sighed happily against his lips, "come on lets go inside, it's getting cold out here," She smiled seductively as she pulled on the waist of his pants where an erection was already forming, and dragged him towards the front door.

"Funny I thought it was just getting hot," Jason laughed as he followed her to the door, stopping only briefly to wave at a nosey neighbour across the street.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

*2 weeks later*

"_Agent Granger, is the man responsible for the cop killer bullets in this court room today?" Robin asked Colby expectantly. _

"_Yes, He's over there," Colby replied pointing to Damien Scott. _

"_For the record Agent Granger pointed at the defendant," Robin told the jury before turning back to Colby, giving him a small nod of encouragement, "and you found this out whilst undercover?"_

"_That's right. I was ordered to get close to Mr Scott's operation. To integrate myself as part of his team so as to gain evidence that he was trafficking illegal guns and what we term 'cop killer' bullets," Colby replied, leaning into the small microphone before him._

"_For the members of the jury and audience, what do we mean by 'cop killer bullets'?" Robin asked, referring to her notes. _

"'_Cop killer bullets' are specialised rounds made for the purpose of piercing police body armour," Colby replied, his nose scrunching in disgust._

"_I'd like to present item one A to the court as evidence that these bullets were found in the defendants possession," Robin informed the judge as her assistant handed over the evidence bags, "and item one B, photos of the defendants lab where item one A was recovered," walking over to the judge Robin placed them both down before turning and handing out printed copies to the members of the jury. "Agent Granger, this is not the only crime you discovered whilst undercover in the defendants operation, was it?"_

_Hesitating for a second, Colby looked down at his sore knuckles. "No it wasn't," he replied his voice thick with guilt._

"_What else did you find?" Robin asked kindly._

"_Mr Scott ordered me and two others to kill an FBI informant. I managed to get him to a hospital but it was too late. Larry Grieves died of internal complications two days later," Colby tilted his head down ashamed._

"_Your honour, I'd like to submit items one C and D into evidence. One C is a voice recording of Mr Scott ordering the hit and one D is a lab report confirming the voice as that of Mr Scott's," Again, Robin placed both pieces of evidence down on the judge's desk and provided written transcripts for the jury. "Agent Granger would you read the highlighted section for the court please?" Robin asked, handing over a sheet of paper._

"_It has come to my attention that one of the men in this room has been snitching on my operation to the fed's, Larry please step forward. This Ladies and gentlemen is what happens to snitches in my gang," Colby read, his gaze misting up. _

"_And the next section agent," Robin pressed gently._

"_Kill him lads, show the world how we treat snitches," Colby's jaw tightened in repressed anger, looking up he caught Don's concerned gaze on his. Looking away Colby sought Liz out in the crowd. She smiled encouragingly and for a millisecond he let the warmth of her gaze fuel him. _

"_Thank you agent Granger. No further questions your honour," Robin said as she returned to her desk. _

"_Defence?" The judge asked turning to Damien Scott's attorney. _

"_Just one question your honour," the attorney replied getting up, "agent Granger is it or is it not true that you were an accomplice to the death of Larry Grieves?" _

"_What?" Colby looked up shocked, "No! I saved him, I got him out!" _

"_But before that you hit him yourself a few good times. In fact you hit him so many times and hard enough to break the skin on your own hands? Is that not correct?" the attorney persisted. _

"_I…I couldn't break cover…I did what I could," Colby replied his eyes flashing in anger._

"_So you deny hitting Larry Grieves?" The attorney came over to stand in front of Colby, his face unbearably close. _

"I didn't do it…saved him…not me…" Colby mumbled angrily in his sleep.

"_But why? Why?" Larry cried shaking Colby by the shoulders._

"It wasn't me!" Colby shouted angrily, tears streaming down his face.

"Col? Col, I'm leaving for work! Col?" Jason called from somewhere far away.

"What?" Getting up, Colby looked around him to see he was back in his childhood room.

"Col, did you hear me?" Jason called from the kitchen.

"Sure, see you later," Colby replied as he flopped back down onto his sweat drenched sheets, hoping his brother would mistake the shaking in his voice for drowsiness.

"BYE!" Jason called out one last time before slamming the door behind him.

Sighing angrily, Colby grabbed the towel he'd left by his pillow last night in anticipation of waking up like this. Though it had been two weeks of calm and relaxation during the day, at night Colby suffered. For all intents and purposes Colby was fine and hadn't had another bad dream since that fateful night on the road.

For Colby, however, that dream had marked the beginning of several uncomfortable nightmares, all too hazy to be called memories and all too painful to want to examine them closely. Worse of all the nightmares seemed to be intensifying, if he wasn't on trial he was laying close to death on the shop floor, Liz tightly pressed against him.

Most mornings he awoke drenched in sweat and aroused, something he didn't let on to Jason as he was only too aware of the burden his disability had already caused his brother by forcing them to live in their old childhood home. Jason thought he could hide his discomfort from Colby, but it was there. He was his brother after all. Jason couldn't hide his true face from him.

If Colby was honest though, there was an element of pride to his deception as well, he felt like the child who wet his bed every night and was scared of what his family would think or say. So each morning after Jason had left for work, Colby fell into his usual routine of stripping the bed, washing the sheets and making the bed ready for the next night. In two weeks his life had become a haze of white sheets and physiotherapy.

Sitting up with the help of a piece of material Jason had attached to the ceiling, Colby pulled his legs to the side of the bed, listening to the thud they caused as his feet hit the hard wood floor. When he was a child he'd hated hardwood floors, each morning he'd wake up, swing his legs to the floor and shriek from the cold. Laughing bitterly, Colby thought about how ridiculous it felt to miss the cold sensation that had bothered him his entire adolescent life.

Once in the chair, Colby wheeled himself to the kitchen where Jason had set up a smaller table just for him. It looked like a child's table. Still he had to be practical, there were a lot of things now that would set him apart from most the world. He couldn't just sit there and wallow in self-pity. _Or can I?_ He thought rebelliously. Before, he could drink himself into a drunken stupor to help with the nightmares but now…_nothing helps,_ he thought angrily as he worked his way around the kitchen that Jason had specially arranged to be accessible from the chair. _No,_ Colby thought angrily,_ he did this for mom. You'd know if you'd been here…_

Shaking his head, which for once wasn't suffering from a hangover, Colby made a cup of warm coffee before realising they were out of milk. "Damn," Colby said his voice sounding rough and scratchy from screaming all night. Putting the mug down, Colby wheeled back to his room to get dressed stopping only briefly to grab the shopping list Jason had left on the fridge, sure enough milk was at the top.

*break*

"MAMA LOOK!" Colby heard a little girl nearby exclaim as he paid for his taxi.

"Yes dear," the young mother said smiling at her little girl, "it's called a wheelchair, when someone can't use their legs they use a wheelchair to help get them around. Now into the car sweetie!"

Ignoring the mother and struggling child, Colby wheeled up to the 7/11 that had once been his local store when he was growing up. Pausing at the entrance, he tried his hardest to ignore the curious glance other customers gave him. "Get it together, Col," he whispered angrily to himself as he forced his arms to wheel himself over the threshold. Once inside he noted how little had changed. _Except now I'm paralysed…_Colby couldn't help telling himself, _that's a big change_.

_Behind Colby a woman screamed hysterically._

Looking around Colby saw everyone going about their normal shop. No one seemed to have heard the scream. _Am I the only one who can hear her?_ Colby asked himself silently as the sobbing grew louder in his ears and he felt a phantom wet sensation on his shoulder.

"_Nobody leaves until I get what I want!" _

Trying hard to block the voices out, Colby breathed in and slowly out, as an odd cocktail of fear and excitement coursed throughout his entire body. _Its ok, there's no crazy gun man…you're just losing it is all,_ Colby tried to make himself laugh but he was too on edge. This had never happened before; then again he hadn't been inside another store since that time on the road. _Are these snippets of memory coming back? _Colby pondered as he moved over to the fridge section and located the semi-skinned milk.

"_Col," Liz's small voice could be heard from somewhere, "are you ok?" Colby could hear the odd tremor in her voice and would have given anything to be there next to her, holding her, comforting her._

"Sir? Can I help you?" A young shop assistant asked, peering awkwardly at the bottle of milk Colby held tightly in his grasp.

"I'm sorry?" Colby looked up at the young lad confused.

"Do you need assistance sir?" The boy repeated; sweat forming on his freckled brow. _Clearly his first cripple, _Colby told himself bitterly as he forced his racing heart to slow and his shaking hands to place the milk in the basket on his lap.

"I'm fine," Colby grimaced at the boy who was twitching nervously now. "I just thought I heard something is all…" he provided lamely when the boy didn't walk away. "All good, see…" he tried to smile.

"If you say so sir," the boy replied, finally taking the hint to leave. For a moment Colby watched him leave until he realised he was in people's way and they were too polite to ask him to move.

"_Stay back! All of you get over by the counter and shut up!"_

"What?" Colby asked in shock.

"I said Colby, you're back! You headed to the counter?" A beautiful woman about his age asked beside him. There was something familiar about her but he couldn't remember what. She certainly seemed to remember him… "Wendy…Wendy Trouville," She supplied eventually when it seemed he'd never answer her.

"Right Wendy, you were in my history of lit class," he smiled as the memory came back to him.

"I heard what happened, I'm SO sorry!" She exclaimed as they moved over to the counter together. "Poor Jason, he did not cope at all when we were told you were dead! I'm telling you, recluse does not even cover what your brother became. Mind you what with your mother passing not long before we got the news about you…well you can understand is all, Col? You ok?"

"_That'll be ten fifty two," the checkout girl sighed exasperated as the man in front of Colby struggled with something in the back of his pants. Instinctively Colby reached under his coat feeling for his Glock but his hand grasped at thin air. Confused, Colby watched the man struggle and caught a glimpse of something under the coat. _

"Gun! GUN!" Colby shouted as the woman in front grabbed her purse and swivelled round to look at the demented man in the wheelchair behind her.

"Colby?" Wendy asked uncertainly as Colby turned first white with fear and then pink with embarrassment.

"I…" but he couldn't talk, he was hyperventilating again. All he knew was that he needed air; he needed to get out the shop. "Sorry," he told them all as he put the basket down next to Wendy's feet and wheeled himself to the door, hot from everyone's stares.

*break*

JASON GRANGER sighed miserably. It had been two weeks since he and Colby had arrived back in Winchester and Colby's nightmares were getting worse. Feeling helpless was not something Jason felt accustomed to and he didn't like it. Having taken Adriana's advice of backing off, Jason had kept his conversations with Colby light and unimportant. _There's only so many times one can discuss the weather or ice hockey,_ Jason thought despairingly. If he hadn't seen his brother relaxing more and more in his company Jason didn't like to think what he might have done in desperation.

"Amigo? You're doing it again," Julio said as he crouched down next to Jason who lay under a car he was meant to be fixing.

"Doing what?" Jason asked confused as he took in the young mechanic's frown.

"Obsessing," Julio sighed as he wiped his grease stained hands on his thighs in frustration, an old habit he'd unfortunately learned from Jason. Adriana had gone spare the first time she'd seen his grease stained overalls. "I'm not washing these!" She'd complained.

"Oh…" Jason replied, giving up any pretence of working on the car.

"You look like you need sleep, why not go take a nap upstairs eh?" Julio told him sternly.

"You'd be tired to if you woke up to your brother's terrified screams half way through the night and had to pretend everything was just peachy in the morning," Jason scolded gently.

"I'm sorry Jase, I know you expected something…more," Julio replied compassionately.

"Well I didn't get it…this is not a time for regrets," Jason sighed as he slid out from under the car. "I guess I'll take that nap…"

"JASON! JASON?" A young woman's screams carried through from the front desk.

"Wendy?" Jason asked in disbelief when he'd reached the front desk. If he remembered correctly Wendy had been in Colby's class at school. He'd always thought she had a crush on his brother but it turned out she hung around with Colby for glimpses at him. If he hadn't loved Adriana he might have been tempted, she was after all exceedingly beautiful…but there had always been something about the exoticness of Adriana. She was passionate, fiery and more exciting compared to Wendy's classic girl next door charm.

"Jason! Thank God!" She cried as she fell into his arms panting, "its Colby…*pant*…he was…*pant*…in the shop and he…*pant*…well I don't know what happened!"

"Wendy, pause…breathe…and tell me what happened," Jason told her unable to keep the edge of fear out of his voice.

"We were talking normally and then next thing I know he went psycho! He yelled GUN! And wheeled away before anyone could even process what had happened," Wendy exclaimed at Jason's rigid frame but interpreting it for disbelief, "I swear Jase…he wasn't ok…"

"Where did he go do you know?" Jason said sternly, cutting through her rambling.

"South down main street, I have no clue where though. Jase…he was just wheeling away fast…I didn't follow quickly enough," She replied biting her lip and looking down in shame.

"No Wendy, you did brilliantly. Thank you for telling me. But South on Main, there's nothing down there except…"

"…the old cemetery," Julio supplied from behind Jason, "go, I've got things covered here amigo."

"Thanks," Jason threw a hasty smile at them both before grabbing his keys and storming outside to his now clean Dodge Charger.

It didn't take Jason long to get to the cemetery, Winchester was a small town after all and he could have walked the path to his mother's grave in his sleep.

"…and anyway…no excuses mom, I'm sorry I wasn't there," Colby told their mother's headstone sadly, "for you or Jason…"

Jason felt a lump form in his throat at his brother's words. It was the first time Colby had talked earnestly since his accident. He was in two minds whether to interrupt when Colby began to speak once more.

"I never gave you a reason. Just took the coward's way out. My grief blinded me to the seriousness of your illness and when I got Jason's letter I should have come home. Not that it mattered by then my lust for revenge was too strong. You see they didn't just take my wife mom, they took my family too. Hannah was pregnant mom. We were coming home to Winchester for good and then our Humvee was attacked…you would have loved her mom. She gave her life for your son…for me." Reaching out Colby placed his hand on the headstone and stroked it affectionately.

"I guess I just couldn't face you guys," Colby resumed after a moment, "especially when you died mom. Jason needed me and I couldn't be there for him. My grief, hell my guilt was too strong by that point. I figured he'd blame me so I let them talk me into pretending I was dead…oh, I don't know. I guess I was suffering from severe post-traumatic stress disorder like that shrink who warned me against joining the CIA said. Anything to do with you guys, Hannah…I locked it all away. Perhaps that's why I blocked out the last two months," Colby seemed to stop and ponder this. His face was hidden but Jason imagined he could see the conflict written there, it was obvious from his hunched frame.

"But not now, if it wasn't bad enough that my nights were haunted by those days now my day time will be as well," Colby stopped at this, his body visibly shaking with helpless fury. "That's right ma, my memories back," He told the stone bitterly, "from accidently killing my informant, to fighting with Don, the trial…and Liz…I remember Liz. Mom…how is it possible to love a woman so much that it physically aches to be apart from her and yet to know in the same breath that your very presence in her life could only hurt her more." Colby sat up straight, shaking his head in resentment, at himself or the situation Jason couldn't tell.

"So what do I do now ma? I can't go back and I can't go forward…I'm too proud to ask for help…so what's next ma? What do I need to do to make you proud of me again? To make it up to Jase? How Do I get him to forgive me so we can move forwards…together?" Colby pleaded with their mother's headstone. When no answer came Colby burst into unexpected tears.

Unable to bear it any longer, Jason stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his little brothers heaving shoulder. "Oh…Col…I do forgive you. You my little bro, I _love _you."

Looking up through confused tears, eyes wide with childish innocence, it took Colby a moment for his brain to process his brother's mysterious appearance before hiccupping with laughter. "Pathetic eh?" He grinned sheepishly.

"You don't need to ask for help Col," Jason said very seriously as he crouched down next to his brother's vulnerable body. "Because I'm going to give it to you regardless of whether or not you let me."

"But I hurt you…so bad, there's no way back from that!" Colby hiccupped.

"Maybe to you, but I say there is. Second chances and all that," Jason smiled weakly as he remembered Adriana's insightful words. "Besides, from what Don tells me, Liz is devastated that you left. So this little 'for her benefit' routine is bullshit."

"She's really that upset?" Colby asked as he wiped his face on the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Yes! She loves you, you idiot! So let's get you some help so you can get back to her, ok?" Jason smiled in genuine relief for the first time in days as he took the handles of Colby's wheelchair and pushed him towards the car. For once Colby didn't argue that he could do it himself. _Breakthrough!_ Jason thought ecstatically as the two travelled out of the cemetery in companionable silence.

* Six hours and seven minutes later*

"…AND YOU'RE sure she's ok with this," Colby looked sceptically at the house opposite. In many regards it reminded him of Liz's little bungalow. Except this one was on the outskirts of Seattle and the air had a salty twang.

"Yes, don't be mad but I kind of sorted this out last week. I was going to kidnap you and bring you here," Jason smiled wryly at the memory.

"Ok, here goes…" Colby replied nervously. "Jase…"

"It's not goodbye. We'll see each other on holidays, talk on the phone," Jason looked away, his eyes misting up.

"Ok then … see you later," Colby smiled at his brother's shocked expression when he embraced him roughly.

"Bye…" Jason replied uncertainly as he watched his brother get into his wheelchair and move across the street, "…good luck."

Once at the front door, Colby shook his shaking hands before knocking on the solid door. Within seconds he heard the pitter patter of little feet and the door swung open. "Hi…is you mother in?" Colby addressed the little girl as she played self-consciously with her plait before turning around and bellowing "MOM!"at the top of her lungs.

"Coming," a familiar female voice called out as she rushed from the kitchen, banging draws and doors in her wake.

When she reached the door Colby smiled, "Megan," He nodded in welcome.

"Colby," she smiled back, "this is my daughter Erin."

"Hello Erin," Colby said as the little girl poked her head out from behind her mother's legs at the mention of her name. "I'm Colby but you can call me Col," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Do you want to see my dinosaur?" She asked shyly.

"Ye-ah," Colby cried dramatically as she giggled and raced inside.

"Let me take your bag," Megan held out her hand expectantly and for only a moment Colby hesitated before deciding to ignore his pride. Handing it over he wheeled himself inside to find himself assaulted by a giant dinosaur teddy bear.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

*Meanwhile in LA*

Not long after dawn, Robin awoke once more to an empty bed. Disappointed, Robin sighed as she berated herself for expecting differently. Rubbing at her tired face in quiet despair, Robin threw back the duvet and slipped out of the bed. Self-consciously, Robin walked across the room towards the adjoining bathroom, the cold air assaulting her naked body as she moved.

It was the third time that week that she'd woken to an empty bed and she was beginning to wonder if Don ever intended to slow down. Although Colby had resolved his differences with Don before his mysterious disappearance, Don still blamed himself for not controlling the hostage situation better and ultimately Colby's accident. _Was accident even the right word?_ She mused as she turned the hot tap on in the shower. Either way Don still blamed himself for Colby's paralysis.

_Maybe I can get Charlie to talk to him,_ Robin mused as she figured if anyone could set her obsessive fiancée straight it would be his younger brother. Although it wasn't as if Charlie hadn't already tried to get his brother to slow down, Robin could only hope that this time he'd listen. _Because I need you here,_ Robin thought sadly as she stepped into the shower, letting the warm water splash pleasantly over her head and down her back.

Taking a bottle of shampoo from the wall rack, Robin began to massage the cool liquid into her mid length brown hair. _Maybe Don had a legitimate reason to slip out of here before six a.m.,_ Robin reasoned with herself. _I'm an incredibly heavy sleeper…maybe he was called in for an emergency._ She shrugged in denial as she rinsed the shampoo away because regardless of the reason why it was always work related and always just another excuse. She was tired of walking on eggshells around Don, never knowing if her nagging would only drive him further away. It was no kind of life to live.

Sighing for the millionth time that morning, Robin grabbed her shower sponge and rubbed her aching body down and wondered when the last time Don had even made love to her properly, not just a quickie between case loads. Even harder was remembering the last time he'd actually looked at her with any genuine desire. He was either too tired or too stressed and the result was either he didn't bother coming home or he did but waited until she was already asleep. Sometimes the only sign he'd leave of actually having been there at all would be the coffee mug he always left on top of the TV, even though he knew how much it pissed her off.

Turning the now freezing cold water off, Robin stepped out of the shower. Grabbing the nearest towel she began to towel dry her hair as the water from her body left little puddles on the warm tiles beneath her feet. _Maybe I should visit him at work, take him some lunch,_ Robin thought suddenly. He had to eat after all, so why not with her? But she rejected this plan almost as quickly as it had formed. She'd tried to take Don some lunch a couple of weeks ago but he had claimed to be too busy informing David of a new case the AD had just passed on that morning.

Fortunately for Don, David had missed the team terribly and had asked to take on Don's old position as Don hadn't actually been able to find a replacement. David's relocation from Washington DC had been quick and painless. At the time Robin had thought David's move back to LA might have been sufficient enough to cause Don to at least pretend to work normal-ish hours. That dream, however, had been short lived.

Leaving the bathroom, Robin walked over to her makeup table and sat down. The table was like Robin, neat and well-organised. Some people took her efficient nature as being cold and mean. At work they called her the 'Ice Bitch'. Though never to her face, not that it bothered Robin. She kind of liked having a reputation as being a bit of a ball buster. It made the opposite legal counsel take her seriously. _Besides you have to be hard in this industry, _Robin thought forcefully,_ you can't afford to give the opposition anything._

Picking up the nearest brush she combed her wet hair into submission before putting it up with a beautiful clasp Don had once given her when she'd needed protecting. Don had saved her life that night and she'd know from that moment she'd eventually agree to marry him and settle down.

She'd gotten everything she'd wished for that night. So why wasn't she happy? Sighing again, Robin pulled a face at herself in the mirror. She had work in half an hour and she couldn't afford to wallow around here in self-pity all morning.

Her face neatly painted and controlled, Robin moved over to her wardrobe. She'd left the outfit she'd planned to wear today on the door the night before. She found it quicker in the morning if she made all the decisions the night before. Don had once teased her about her regimented mornings, but try as she might she had failed to see how it was a bad thing.

Struggling now, she was shocked to discover the dress didn't fit over her hips. _I only wore this thing recently!_ Robin exclaimed silently as she kicked the dress off and turned to her closet and pulled out the first dress that came to hand. Sure enough the dress didn't fit. Neither did any of the other smart dress suits she wore when needed in court.

_Damn,_ she thought angrily as she looked down at her naked body. She didn't take much notice of her body but sure enough she could see areas that were bigger than they had been before. _Damn! Damn! _She bit her lip in uncertainty. There was no way she could have put on this much weight in such a short amount of time. Unless she'd been eating more than she'd realised she could only be…_pregnant,_ Robin thought hastily, _there's no way…Don's never here! _Nevertheless, when Robin thought back to her last period she realised she was a week or two late. She'd been so wrapped up in Don's problems she'd lost all sense of time.

_There's no point getting ahead of myself,_ Robin thought rationally as she pulled on a pair of jeans that had always been baggy on her, that now fit snuggly, and an old T-shirt of Don's. _I'll just run to the drugstore and get a test_.

Although her mind was in panic she couldn't help but feel a tremor of excitement run down her spine. Work forgotten, Robin slipped out of the apartment, stopping only briefly to get Don's mug off the TV and put in the sink.

*break*

"Hi Liz," Alan smiled down at Liz, who was hunched over her desk looking through the phone records of their latest victim.

"Hi Alan," she returned his smile, barely.

"Don about?" He asked as he looked around the wide open plan office.

"No he popped out, something about Robin not turning up for work. Can I help you?" Forcing herself to be polite, Liz put the file down to give Alan her full attention. After all it hadn't been his fault Colby had left.

"Well I was going to surprise him with lunch; he's been so busy lately I've hardly seen him!" Alan smiled wistfully, "but I guess the surprise is that he's not here."

"Sorry," she replied, already reaching for the file once more.

"Maybe you could do me a favour…" Alan hesitated for a moment as she dropped the file again in agitation.

"Yes?" She asked with feigned patience.

"Have lunch with me. You look like you haven't stopped for two weeks," Alan gestured to her desk that was currently overflowing with files and scrunched up pieces of paper.

"It's been a tough case," Liz lied as she took in her crowded desk with the perspective of fresh eyes. Alan saw mess but she saw order, a puzzle that needed solving. With Colby gone, she'd devoted all her time to this case and lunch breaks, well who needs them when you don't have much of an appetite anyway...

"So take a break. You'll be doing this old man a favour," Alan told her as he placed his hand on his heart, "after all who wouldn't want a lunch date as beautiful as you," Alan coaxed as he picked up her jacket, clearly not taking no for an answer.

_Colby doesn't,_ she thought bitterly before she could stop her treacherous mind from going there…_again. _"Why not?" She replied miserably, she did need a break…

"Then let's go," Alan held out is arm and when she took it, escorted her to the elevator.

*break*

"How's the omelette?" Alan asked after a large pause in conversation.

"Nice," she replied absently as he moved a small chunk about her plate with her fork.

"Liz?" He said, his voice laden with concern.

"I'm ok, really," but it was clear she wasn't.

For the first time Alan really looked at Liz. She'd gotten thinner, so thin that she almost looked anorexic. Her hair was tied back in a tight knot on the top of her head and her face was devoid of makeup which only showed up her puffy eyes more. "You really miss him don't you?" Alan patted her had comfortingly.

"Yes," She whispered. Her voice thick with tears yet to come.

"And you blame Donny," Alan told her bluntly.

"No, yes…I don't know," Liz replied flustered.

"If it helps, Donny blames himself to. He's taking it out on Robin, not that she'd show it. She's too proud for that." Alan looked concernedly to the distance.

"I didn't know things were that bad between them," Liz replied earnestly, "I'm sorry for that. Truth is I'm mainly angry at Colby. He's the one who left."

"True. But I think you understand why," Alan turned his attention back to his lunch companion.

"No, I don't!" She protested, sitting up straight.

"Come on Liz, anyone could see he was pushing everyone away because he was scared and angry," Alan chided gently.

"But I could have helped!" She cried angrily.

"I know you wanted to love, but truth is…the only one who can help Colby right now is Colby. He needs to ask for help, he's too proud a man to have it thrust upon him," Alan saw the resolve weaken behind Liz's misted eyes. "He's ok Liz. Jason called Don last night. He finally asked for help. He's in Seattle with Megan and then he's coming back for you. If there's one thing I know at the moment amongst all this madness, it's how much that boy loves you."

"He's in Seattle?" She whispered weakly, a mixture of relief and anger flashing in her steely gaze.

"Yes," Alan replied patting her hand gently.

"Then he better hurry and get back soon," Liz told Alan straight, "because I won't wait forever."

"Liz-"

"-thank you for lunch, but I must be getting back to the office," She replied, her tone a conflict of hurt and betrayal.

"You're welcome," Alan said to no one in particular as he watched Liz storm from the room.

*break*

Back at home, Robin ripped the packaging to the home pregnancy test open and rushed to the bathroom. She laughed at her shaking hands as she pulled her pants down and sat on the loo. In all her excitement, however, she soon found she couldn't pee. She tried everything, running taps, singing songs about rain, and drinking a large glass of water, but no pee would come. Disappointed Robin left the test on the side by the toilet and tried to do other little tasks around the apartment while she waited.

Finally, a couple hours later she felt the familiar need to pee. Rushing up at once, she tripped over her feet in her hurry to get to the bathroom and in her haste almost forgot to pee on the stick.

The next three minutes were the most infuriatingly long minutes she could remember ever having to suffer through and when the negative sign appeared she felt a crushing weight of disappointment and a painful rushing in her ears.

She wasn't pregnant.

She felt stupid feeling sad at having lost something she'd never had to begin with, but a prickling behind the eyes revealed she was close to tears. In the short journey to the drugstore and then the long wait to pee, Robin had allowed herself to grow accustomed to the idea of a child. A little boy the spitting image of his daddy or a little girl she could dress in pretty clothes...

"Robin?" She heard Don call from the living room, for once he was home early.

Hiccupping in anger and resentment she dropped the pregnancy test in the bin and covered it with the tissue she'd used to wipe the mascaraed tears from her cheeks. Coming out of the bathroom, she crawled into bed as Don came into the room.

"Honey? You didn't go into work…are you ok?" Don asked as he came round to her side of the bed and crouched down.

"I…I didn't feel well," her voice quivered miserably.

"I figured as much, so I brought you some chicken soup. I'll just go warm it up," getting up, Don left the room.

Letting out a sob of despair, Robin couldn't believe it had taken her not turning up to work to get Don's attention. The amount of times she'd laid naked and waited for his arrival…and he hadn't showed…she felt stupid all over again.

"Hey, hey, don't cry!" Don told her, she'd failed to hear his reappearance through her sobbing.

"I'm sorry," she hiccupped.

"I'm sorry too," Don replied earnestly as he stroked her wet cheek, "I haven't been here for you and I'm sorry for that. But I'm here to make amends…can you forgive me?"

Robin looked at Don through misty eyes and saw a genuine regret furrowing his brow. His hair had grown longer than he usually liked and it was flopping boyishly in his vulnerable eyes.

"Yes," she smiled weakly. Ok she wasn't pregnant. But Don was back, her Don. And he was willing to make it up to her… "Make love to me," She whispered huskily with a genuine need to reconnect.

"But you're ill?" Don protested weakly, his pupils already dilating with lust. "You sure you want to?"

She could see he was genuinely worried too, "I'm sure," she replied as he kissed her passionately for the first time in months, "I've missed you," she whispered on his lips.

"I've missed you too," he sighed with pleasure as he moved on top of her. She ran her hand through is unkempt hair as her body arched to meet his. She could feel his need for her pressing into her stomach.

"You aren't needed back at work today are you?" Her voice shivered and her blood ran cold at the thought of losing this moment and everything going back to the way it had been for the last few months.

"No," He told her as he pulled his old t-shirt over her head and threw it across the room.

"Don…" She murmured. Her fear over powering her lust.

"No and I've told the AD I'm taking tomorrow off," he whispered across her stomach, causing her to go weak with love and lust.

"I love you," she sighed with pleasure.

"And I'm never leaving you like that again. I promise Robin. I'm cutting back on work, delegating more…and I'm never leaving you alone like that again," he told her seriously as he cradled her face in his hands. Letting out a suppressed sob of relief Robin felt the tears fall on her hot cheeks.

"Robin?" Don asked uncertainly.

"No, its ok…these are good tears," Robin cried happily as Don cradled her in his arms.

"Good," he smiled as he brushed her lips with his, before turning the heat up on the kiss, all conversation lost.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

*One month later in Seattle*

"Hey sweetie," Erin's aunty Sarah said chirpily as she slipped into the small kitchen via the back door, "your mom about?"

"Back here!" Megan called from the pantry.

"What are you doing back there?" Sarah shouted, so as to be heard from the kitchen.

"Getting supplies for dinner," Megan explained as she entered the kitchen, her face pink with effort and her arms laden with dusty jars.

"You? Cook? Quick Erin check the sky there must be a pig flying somewhere," Sarah laughed heartily as she took in her sister's attempt at a stern frown.

"Yes me, I do know how to you know!" She laughed a second later as she took in the dusty jars on the counter, "just not lately, ok? I wonder if any of these are in date…"

"Mom's making a special dinner for uncle Col who's been staying with us," Erin told her aunt brightly.

"Who's uncle Col? And why haven't I met him before now?" Sarah asked, flipping her long blond hair over her shoulder as she removed her woollen cardigan. At forty five, Sarah was three years older than Megan, not that she dressed that way.

"Just an old colleague that came to stay with us for a little while," Megan responded vaguely, knowing very well how her fickle elder sister could be around new men, which was precisely why she hadn't introduced them before now.

"Ooo!" Sarah exclaimed in excitement as she launched herself from the stool and moved over to the kitchen door, "he is fine! I'd learn to cook if it was for someone as handsome as him!" she whistled in appreciation as she took in Colby's new tan and tousled sun bleached hair. Secretly Megan had to admit Colby did look good. With the help of the physiologist Megan had found him, Colby had toned up and gained enough weight to appear healthy once more.

Standing next to Sarah, Megan took in the peaceful smile that played at the corner of his mouth. Colby had been living with them for a month now and they'd had a session every other day. Although Colby had been willing to talk when he'd first arrived, fear and embarrassment had soon prevented him from opening up fully. "Give him time," Jason had warned her when she'd mentioned this over the phone the last time he'd called, "don't rush him or he'll never let you in."

Being a psychiatrist, Megan already knew that patients sometimes put up barriers to protect themselves when in a session. Nevertheless, Colby was a friend and she couldn't help feeling a personal stake in his recovery.

"Mommy says uncle Col is disabled that's why he has to go around in a wheelchair," Erin told her aunt formally and bringing Megan's attention away from the sleeping Colby and back onto her nosey sister, "but we mustn't mention it to him because he'll be sad."

"That's right," she told her daughter affectionately as she stroked her soft hair.

"Well if that's what men from LA look like I clearly moved to the wrong city!" Sarah exclaimed, but softened her tone as she regretfully moved away from the doorway.

"Why _did_ you move to Seattle again?" Megan asked curiously as she took the jars over to the sink and began to wash the thick layer of dust off.

"Why to be closer to my baby sister of course!" Sarah flopped down on a stool next to Erin.

"Uh huh," Megan replied, clearly not buying it.

"Ok, so maybe dad was on one of his power trips again. You know the kind. Sara your forty five, palm reader is not a valid career choice. Blah, blah, blah," Sarah mimicked their father's gruff voice and straight back causing Erin to giggle hysterically.

"It's not you know," Megan sighed as she noticed not a single jar was in date, "I really need to clear this pantry out…but first I'll need to go to the store."

"Ok so maybe it's not. But I don't need another one of his lectures. After all I'm practically an old woman!" Sarah drummed her fingers on the counter in agitation.

"So you came here to escape dad's tyranny?" Megan asked concerned. It was true their father had not handled having four daughters and no sons well, but of them all Sarah was definitely the flakiest and Megan's favourite of her big sisters.

"That and because I thought I might meet a dishy doctor like in that TV show…I forget its name. You know the one with, Mc…Mc" Sarah sighed dreamily as she tried to remember.

"That's a TV show!" Megan shook her head in disbelief.

"True but a gal can dream right? Besides who needs them when you have your very own McHottie asleep on that couch next door," Sarah winked at her curious niece.

"First of all I don't want you going near McHottie…I mean Colby. He has a enough baggage and secondly-"

"-morning ladies," Colby smiled from his wheelchair in the doorway. "I'm Colby. I don't believe we've been introduced yet?" He asked as he held his hand out to Sarah.

"I'm Sarah. Meg's big sister, but not by much," she whispered conspiratorially as Megan's frown deepened.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sarah," Colby smiled as he moved over to where Erin sat doodling. "Morning squirt," he said affectionately as she turned to give him a dazzling smile. Not usually one for strangers, Erin had taken quite a shine to Colby. Megan was surprised at how good Colby was with children considering she didn't think she'd ever seen him with any before.

"I drew you something!" Erin told him nervously as she passed the drawing over. Looking down Colby's eyes misted over as he took in what he could only assume was meant to be him in a superhero costume. "Mom told me that you're a hero. But that you haven't got a cape," Erin gave him a gap toothed grin, "so I drew you one!"

"It's lovely," Colby told her as a lump formed in his throat, "is that Dino?" Colby asked pointing to the cuddly dinosaur in his arms.

"Yes, you saved him like that detective mom said you saved," Erin told him, clearly forgetting that Megan had told her not to say anything.

"Well cheers squirt, I'll take good care of it," Colby smiled down at her daughter who stared back, eyes wide in adoration.

"I need to go to the store," Megan told him after a moment of awkward silence filled the room, "you can come with me and Erin if you like?"

Colby knew it was a test. It was only the other day he had mentioned his panic attacks in the other stores and Megan had suggested them trying it again. Soon. _Am I ready?_ Colby asked himself as the three women looked anywhere but him and his chair. They were giving him the chance to refuse gracefully and for that Colby was immensely grateful.

"Or you could come with me. I'm just about to go for a walk…" Sarah said before she realised her mistake and blushed bright pink.

In the past Colby would have frozen at the casual reference to walking, but something had changed at Megan's. Whether because of the work he and the physiotherapist had done or his new found strength, but Colby felt tougher and ready to take on the world. Even it would be from his wheelchair.

Suddenly realising that he was no longer angry at the prospect of never walking again, Colby grinned at the others discomfort. "I think I'll come shopping with you," Colby told Megan, "I'm ready," he smiled assuredly.

"Erin, why not come with me on that walk? I could take you to feed the ducks," Sarah offered her niece to make up for her previous slip-up. "Shopping's only going to be boring anyway."

"Ok," Erin replied oblivious to the tension in the room.

"I'll just get dressed," Colby said as he backed out of the room. Conscious of the way Sarah was eyeing him up like he was prime rib and she was hungry.

"I'll just get her shoes," Megan told Sarah as she followed Colby out of the room.

*break*

"Are you sure about this?" Megan looked down at Colby, biting her lip in uncertainty.

"No, but let's do it anyway before I change my mind," Colby told her as he wheeled himself inside the shop. Weary, Megan pushed the trolley inside to find Colby frozen in place. He was sweating badly and pale beneath his new tan. "What's first?" He asked her, gritting his teeth when they began to chatter.

"We need some bananas and apples," she gestured to the fruit stand close by.

"Ok," Colby wheeled himself over to the bananas, leaving her to follow. "Stupid bag…" he practically grunted when he couldn't open the small plastic bag to hold the bananas.

"Here let me," she told him but Colby was on a mission to prove something to her or himself and refused to hand it over.

"I can do it," he told her as he finally got the bag open, "my legs don't work, not my hands," he added nastily.

"Ok," she sighed, deciding to ignore his outburst when she noticed Colby seemed far away. "What is it?" she looked around her but she couldn't see what had caught Colby's attention.

"I…it was nothing," Colby shook his head and smiled wryly.

"Ok…we need some sausages next, I'm thinking of a casserole for dinner," she told him as she pushed the trolley in the direction of the meat counter.

"How many for dinner?" Colby asked Megan, his earlier mood from the fruit bag clearly forgotten.

"I don't know, Sarah might join us," Megan replied distractedly, missing his slight frown, "I'll get two packs and freeze what we don't need."

"Two it is," Colby replied as he picked two bags up and dropped them in the trolley.

"Hmm, might as well get the milk next," Megan told him and started to walk away when she noticed he wasn't following her. "Colby?" She asked concerned but he didn't respond. Instead he pressed his face into his hands and muttered incoherently to himself.

Crouching down beside him, Megan placed both hands on his arms and lowered them from his face. He was crying. "Col?" she addressed him as if she was talking to a young child. "Talk me through it," she told him.

"I couldn't save him," Colby muttered silently.

"Couldn't save who Colby?" Megan pressed as she took his hands in hers.

"Sam," he sighed miserably, "he didn't deserve to die."

"Colby, he took a shop full of people hostage and tried to kill another detective. No one deserves to die, but he wasn't worth saving," Megan told him harshly as she waved other shoppers away.

"He was grieving," Colby turned to face her, his face as hard as stone, "he needed help, support…not this. You know I can remember everything, his hesitation before SWATT burst through the door. He was going to give up…but I was too late. He was scared, like me…like we all were. I remember the pain as it shot through my back. I remember falling to the ground and being suffocated by the other detective. I saw Sam's cloudy gaze and I knew he was dead because I'd failed at my job…"

"No!" She protested angrily, "you did everything right. You saved the people you were meant to save and you took a bullet for someone else. You did your job agent and then some. And you want the truth, I'm glad he died for what he did to you. Look around you Colby, all this was his doing."

"Maybe, but I lay awake at night Megan and I ask myself how different everything would be if I'd just spoken to him sooner. I ask myself 'what if' I'd just taken control of the situation properly from the beginning." Colby crossed his arms in anger.

"We can all play what if Colby. What if you'd had your gun? What if he'd shot the other detective? What if he'd hit you higher up your back and killed you? Sometimes all we can hope for is to end up with the right regrets," Megan told him kindly.

"You know my biggest regret?" Colby asked her sadly.

"No," she stood up and pushed him and the trolley towards the milk section.

"How I treated Liz," he took over wheeling his wheelchair.

"There's still time to correct that," Megan told him earnestly. She'd heard from Don how Liz was biting everyone's heads off with worry.

"I don't know, not while I'm in this chair there isn't," Colby told her stubbornly.

"I think you're selling her short with that attitude," Megan berated him gently. "Liz loves you, chair or not. So call her and make everyone's lives back in LA easier."

"Maybe," he told her and Megan smiled at the first hint of progress she'd seen to date.

Before he knew it they were at the counter and had enjoyed a nice relaxed shop. Feeling hopeful for the first time in days, Colby excused himself and wheeled himself outside to give Liz a ring. Too busy concentrating on his phone; Colby didn't see the reversing car before it hit him.

"COLBY!" Someone shouted from far away, but he couldn't hear who she was through his screaming. The car, though not moving fast had managed to tip his wheelchair over and jolted a large stabbing pain down both legs.

"Ah Jesus," the driver exclaimed when he realised he'd hit a man in a wheelchair, "I didn't see him!" The man protested when someone came running over to them.

"Colby," Megan said beside him, "what's wrong? Where does it hurt?"

Laughing between screams, Colby looked up at her concerned gaze. "My legs…" he half laughed half croaked. "My legs hurt!" He shouted happily as two burly paramedics came over and hulled him onto a stretcher, exchanging worried glances at the hysterical crippled man.

Feeling tears spring from his eyes, Colby breathed in with pleasure as the painful stabbing continued in his legs.

*break*

"So what are you saying?" Megan asked the grave looking doctor nervously, "will he walk again?"

"I have high hopes Mr Granger will walk again, however, this is the hard part for Mr Granger. He's in unbearable pain and we're unable to give him any more morphine. Recovery from here on will take a lot of strength and will power." The doctor told her solemnly.

"So what happened? I mean to make him regain feeling?" Megan asked the fidgety doctor who was obviously anxious to move on.

"From the scans we've done it's clear to see that the swelling around his spine has reduced remarkably, this is most likely due to a combination of the anti-inflammatories he's been taking and his physiotherapy sessions," the doctor told her as he glanced at his watch in agitation.

"And what? The car just jogged everything into place?" Megan asked confused.

"We don't know but my guess is that when the car tipped Mr Granger out of his wheelchair, he instinctively tried to flex or brace his legs causing the shooting pains to occur," the doctor replied hurriedly but seeing her anguish sighed and tucked the patient chart under his arm. "Don't quote me, but with the right kind of exercise and pain regiment I've seen people with the same condition walk within two weeks maybe just over. I stress, however, that every case is different. It's just as likely that Mr Granger will only recover some feeling and not be able to walk. That's the worst case scenario, so your friend has good odds. Now I must go, I'm due in surgery. Good day Ms Reeves." And with that the doctor stalked away.

"Hey, we came as soon as I got your message!" Sarah shouted at her from down the corridor.

"He's ok, he's just sleeping at the moment," Megan told Erin who looked close to tears. "You can go in there sweetie but you have to keep your voice down. Ok?"

"Ok," Erin replied quietly as she slipped into the room and went over to Colby's bedside. Her lip trembled as she took in the over whelming amount of tubes and monitors around Colby.

"She'll be ok," Sarah told Megan as she patted her shoulder reassuringly. "I'll sit with her while you call Colby's brother."

"Thanks," she replied as quietly as her daughter, her lip also trembling.

"He's going to be ok," Sarah embraced her warmly. "Whether he can walk again or not he's going to be ok."

"I know. The doctor has a strong feeling Colby should walk again within two weeks, says he's seen it before. I just…it's hard to see him in that much pain. Do you know what he told the doctor? He told him that the pain was the most wonderful sensation he'd ever felt. I don't know if he could survive not being able to walk now he's this close." Megan rambled as she sat down in one of the many chairs outside Colby's private room.

"The human spirit is a remarkable thing. Do you remember me telling you that when grandma died?" Sarah asked as she joined Megan in one of the many uncomfortable plastic chairs. When Megan nodded, Sarah continued. "Well I also told you that humans can adjust to the unlikeliest of scenarios. Right then you couldn't envision a world without her. But I told you that one day you would wake up and the pain would not be as bad. The sun would seem to shine once more and though it will be a different normality, normality is what you will achieve. Colby will be ok. He's stronger than all of us, except maybe Erin. You know she was reassuring me on the taxi ride here!" Sarah laughed as the memory came back to her. "Anyway, right now Colby's trying to make sense of his reality. He's trying to get back to normality, whether it is one where he can walk or not. Either way he'll adapt and he'll move forwards. He will achieve normality once more, I promise you that and ultimately he'll be stronger for it."

"Sometimes you surprise me with your insightfulness," Megan smiled weakly as her shoulders sagged in defeat. "I'd better phone Jason now."

"Don't worry. I'll look after them whilst you're gone. Could you get us a coffee on your way back? I would but I recon Colby will want the company when he wakes up," Sarah smiled as she got up and moved over to the door to Colby's room.

"You know the coffee here sucks right?" Megan chuckled at her sisters scrunched up face.

"Fine. How about a soda? I'm parched!" And with that Sarah slipped into the small room leaving Megan alone in the corridor to collect her thoughts before joining the heavy stream of patients and nurses in her attempt at finding a telephone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

*2 Weeks Later*

"Erm…_Liz_…Don wants to see you in his office," David called on his way to the elevator, clearly trying to avoid engaging her in conversation. Everyone avoided her lately but Liz didn't care, she had her work to focus on. Sighing audibly, Liz switched off her desk lamp and closed the file she'd been going over. They'd recently been investigating a group of carjackers whose M.O had changed to include the use of deadly force. It was still undetermined whether they'd made a mistake or just grown in confidence. Either way the situation was getting out of hand. Even worse was the fact that the M.O had changed after Charlie had left for Cambridge, meaning it now fell to Larry to create a new algorithm that could incorporate the change in M.O.

Moving towards Don's office, Liz nodded at any agent brave enough to risk eye contact. She knew that everyone was weary of her lately because the permanent mood that seemed to have settled inside her heart since Colby's disappearance months before.

So what if she snapped a lot these days? Who cared if she bruised a few egos? She definitely didn't. No for now she had a case to work and the ones who should be worried are the carjackers who decided to use deadly force. If it came to it she was more than prepared to use some deadly force of her own. In many respects Liz almost wished she could be given five minutes alone with the jerks. She'd show them how it felt to watch a loved one get shot…

They were so close to cracking the case too, she could feel it. Now a profiler had been in and discussed the profiles of the suspects and the type of cars they were after they could set up a sting to take them down, with or without Larry working out where they're likely to strike next.

Knocking on the door to Don's office she waited until he called out for her to enter.

"Liz," Don smiled but it looked forced.

"Don," she replied cordially.

"Have a seat," Don gestured to the small worn couch to the side of his desk before returning to his phone conversation. "That's great Charlie, really. I've got Liz here so I have to go, say hi to Amita for me. Ok Bye."

"How's Charlie?" Liz asked, mistaking his discomfort for worry about his brother as he hung up the phone.

"He's good, just got back to England an hour and a half ago," Don smiled weakly as he moved around the desk to take a seat in one of the two chairs reserved for guests.

"That's nice…" She replied distractedly, "When does he get back?"

"Well he and Amita will finish out the semester first. Then Robin and I are going out to visit them in the summer and then we'll all travel back together," Don said as he stared out the window unable to look at her.

"What's wrong?" Liz asked awkwardly, not liking the way he was looking at her and then shifting his eyes away guiltily.

"Liz I'm pulling you off the case," Don told her as he gazed compassionately at the file she'd inadvertently brought with her.

"I'm off the case? Why?" She asked bewildered.

"You're too attached Liz. You're too emotionally involved to be of any use," Don told her bluntly.

"But…but I'm your best agent on this!" She protested loudly as her voice rose up in a shriek. "Who was it that found the link between victims? Me! That's who!"

"You've done well Liz, no one's saying otherwise…" Don stood up irritably, he'd known it wasn't going to be easy and Liz wasn't about to make it any easier for him.

"But…?" Liz asked angrily, her eyes glowering as unexpected tears pricked the back of her eyes and tickled her nose.

"But because of what you went through with Colby and the shooting, with the new M.O…you're just too close to this _personally_. I can't afford you doing something reckless and getting hurt because of it." Don told her as he walked over to his wall sized window and watched the rain pour down the pain of glass.

"I'm fine, honestly. I can do this Don. I _want_ to do this," She almost pleaded with him as the file slipped from her grasp, scattering paper across the floor in its wake. Neither Don nor Liz made a move to clear it up.

"Liz," Don sighed sadly. "I'm putting you on a few days leave. Relax, enjoy the time off but whatever you do, _don't go near this case_."

"Don't do this," She whispered sadly as her head sagged in defeat, her eye catching the photos of the victim left for dead on the side of the road. There was a close up of the shot to the victims back…in a flash Liz was back on the shop floor cradling Colby's head in her lap whilst Don tried desperately to stop the flow of blood that was seeping through the cracks between his fingers. _Colby had been so lucky the bullet had only gone so far as to lodge itself in his spinal cord. _She'd thought bitterly at the time.

Then again, Colby had almost died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Liz shivered as the terrible sound of Colby's heart monitor going flat and the paramedic shouting that he was crashing, washed over her leaving goose bumps in their wake. Helpless Liz had squeezed Colby's cold hand and begged God to give him back to her. Not that it worked. He'd left her in the end anyway…

Thinking back, Liz remembered the steely determination that had come over her as she closed the victim's cloudy eyes and vowed to avenge him and Colby or the Colby she'd lost that night. She didn't know the stranger he'd become since and a tiny part of her wasn't sure she wanted to. It scared her to think that she could look into the eyes of the man she so desperately loved, only to find he was no longer there to be found. It didn't bare thinking about…

Turning back to Don who seemed equally distracted, Liz felt the familiar steely determination stir her blood in desperation, "I'll keep in check I swear! I'll be nicer to everyone else, even if it kills me! Just don't pull me from the case," she openly begged him now. "It's all I have. It feels like I'm being held together by duct tape right now," she said, letting some of her vulnerability show, "please Don…"

"This isn't a request Liz," Don told her sternly as if addressing an errant child, "I'm not suggesting you take leave I'm _telling_ you to. I'm you SAIC _and that was an order_."

"Don…" she sighed miserably.

"Take the time off and comeback in a few days when this case has passed," Don told her softly as he continued to watch the rain fall like tears. It had been raining on and off for the last month or so. Some were calling it the worst spring in the history of LA. He hoped for Colby, that wherever he was he was warm and dry. Don knew how much Colby hated the rain. He'd always claimed the best way to enjoy the rain was to stay home and watch it from the inside, like Don was now.

"Damn you Don," Liz whispered angrily after some time when Don seemed to have drifted back into his thoughts, ignoring her, "Damn you."

"I'd think about your next few words very carefully _agent_ Warner," Don snapped, his eyes flashing in anger as his body went rigid with tension. He'd always kept it relaxed with his agents, more so with his old team, but if there was one thing that raised Don's hackles the most it was someone questioning his authority. Ever since he'd taken over the position of SAIC he'd always felt inadequate in comparison to his predecessor. Finally at a point where he was comfortable and felt he'd earned the respect of his agents, he still hated being reminded of his previous insecurities.

Ignoring his obvious fury Liz shouted, "You can't solve this case without me! No one knows it like I do. I've put in extra hours to determine how the victims were linked and I'm days away from cracking how the suspect knew them, I can feel it. Please Don, let me bring Justin's killer to justice! Please!" She asked with the last ounce of despair she had left, clearly audible in her anguished cry. She could hear the strangled desperation in her voice and despised herself for it.

"You see that's just it Liz!" Don shouted back equally furious, "You're referring to the victim personally. You can't bring Colby back that way and quite frankly I'm not willing to risk you killing yourself to do it! JUSTIN _ISN'T_ COLBY!" he told her harshly.

"You bastard!" she hissed furiously.

Startled at her shocked horror as if he'd physically struck her Don rushed to make amends but it was too late. "Liz-" he started but Liz cut him off.

"-I don't even know why I'm even _here_," she snapped resentfully, "everyone kept saying he'll comeback for you, well where is he? HUH? I was so stupid for thinking he ever _cared_ for me. I _hate_ him. I _hate_ you. But most of all I _HATE_ this team!" She screamed before running from the room.

She just about made it out the door before the tears spilled over, splashing her hot cheeks. Ignoring any agents still in the office that had heard her shouting and were now openly gaping in horror, Liz stormed towards the elevator and home.

*break*

As the rain pelted the windscreen of Liz's car, she wiped distractedly at the tears that had refused to stop since she'd stormed out of Don's office half an hour earlier. She hadn't cried since that day Don had cradled her in his arms. Colby had just left and after weeks of being sent away the emotion had just poured out of her, like it was now. What she'd said in Don's office hadn't been far off the mark and had hit a little too close to home for her liking.

So she couldn't hate Colby even if she wanted to. Despite everything he'd done to her, or put her through. She still loved him. She didn't hate Don or the team either. In their own way they'd tried to support her through this difficult time. Not that she'd let them. She just hated the situation and the sense of helplessness it caused her.

Mostly she was just tired. She hadn't slept properly since the accident. She just kept reliving it over and over again in technical detail. Why hadn't she just let him keep his gun? She'd asked herself until it drove her crazy with resentment, at herself and Colby. He'd made it perfectly clear he didn't need her but she needed him desperately.

The one date they had shared haunted her as memories of Colby's easy smile, inappropriate glances and little touches left her body dizzy and aching with pain and lust. She'd always thought of herself as a strong independent woman in no need of a man to be happy, however, she'd never loved someone the way she loved Colby and her whole body wept at the loss.

Switching the indicator to off, Liz cursed as the lights began to change. In a rushed and infuriated moment Liz slammed her foot down on the accelerator instead of the brake and narrowly missed colliding with a four by four going in the opposite direction. It was so hard to see anything through the thick rain and with the windscreen wipers working overtime, Liz thanked God for her narrow escape. She didn't know what had come over her, she was just so angry at everything at the moment. Slowing down to almost a halt, Liz let the adrenaline and fear subside before wiping the fresh tears from her face with shaking hands.

Cars from all around Liz honked angrily as they gestured to her to pull over or just get out of the way. Regardless, Liz remained ignorant to their harried cries of protest as she continued to move reluctantly. If it hadn't been dangerous to do so, she might have let the car slow to a stop altogether.

Looking around her, Liz could just about make out a Chinese neon sign that she always passed on her way into work. She was almost home. Emotionally spent, she summoned enough energy to put the car back in gear and put her foot down on the accelerator once more.

In no time flat she was soon pulling into her small drive way and parked outside her petite bungalow. She'd painted the yellow walls herself with the help of Colby and where they had once warmed her like the sun they now left an empty with a hollow resentment. About to switch the ignition off, Liz froze as she noticed something moving on the edges of the cars headlights. Instinctively she reached for her gun. However, when the object wheeled itself into the full beams of the cars headlights she gasped and reached for the umbrella instead. It was Colby, in his wheelchair and he was soaked to the bone.

"Colby…?" She asked uncertainly after having run to him, leaving the car door open and splashing water all up her thighs.

"It's me Liz," he smiled self-consciously at her until she slapped him. Instantly they both froze. It was hard to tell who was more shocked, but she supposed it was herself as in the next moment Colby smiled wryly and said, "I guess I deserved that."

"I…" Having wished for months that Colby would turn up at her house Liz was at a loss for what to say next. In her fantasy's it hadn't happened like this at all. She could have done without the torrential rain for starters and her bloated face from crying.

Horrified she reached up and pressed her fingers to her swollen cheeks. Noticing, Colby stopped smiling and frowned ashamed. "I can't do this," she told him truthfully as she tried to move around him, however, his hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She was mortified to notice that even with the pouring rain and his cold wet hands, his touch still sent little tingles of excitement down her wrist. Her heart leapt to her throat as her breathing came in ragged breaths. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Please, hear me out," Colby told her seriously. She hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the porch steps beside his chair. "I'd like to try and explain…everything." He was going to tell her that he'd missed her but sensed it was the wrong moment to bring it up.

"I think I deserve that much," Liz looked down at her twisted hands, unable to meet his gaze. She hated feeling this vulnerable, even more so because it was in front of Colby. It didn't matter that she'd missed him terribly or that her whole body ached for the feel of his arms around her.

Now faced with the reality of the explanation she'd sought so badly, she was scared that it wouldn't be enough. That it wouldn't meet her expectations, not that she really knew what to expect. She'd never understood in all the books and magazines she liked to indulge on when they said that sometimes love wasn't enough…until now. From the moment Colby had wheeled into the beam of her headlights she'd realised how badly Colby had actually hurt her and how badly she needed him to find the words to make the last two months make sense.

"You're right," he sighed as he sensed her hesitation. He had to get it right or she'd try to flee again and something was screaming in the back of his mind that he only had this one chance to get it right. "Where to start…" he coughed nervously.

"How about at the beginning," she replied dryly as she tried her hardest to ignore the wet sensation of the porch under her bum. It was still raining hard, and usually she would invite him inside but whether out of spite because she knew how much Colby hated the rain or so that he could suffer as she had suffered, Liz refused to ask him inside.

"Ok…here goes, when I ended up in this chair, I somehow became something…less," Colby stumbled over his words in a rush to get it all out there and when she began to protest he held his hand out to stop her. "Liz, I don't know how to explain it except to say that when I found out I was paralysed I realised that not only was I not the man I had been, I realised I could never be that man again. The old me was gone…like that," Colby snapped his fingers, "Consequently it meant I'd also lost the man I'd always wanted to be as well. I was left…drifting. I couldn't remember what had happened, I couldn't remember _us_…" His heart broke on the word us and Liz fought the urge to reach for him. "Charlie told me about those missing two months, not that I wanted to believe the part about my informant and my…part in his death…"

"That wasn't your fault!" She told him loyally and he smiled disbelievingly at her.

"Maybe not, but I could have done more...I was angry you see. It was the anniversary of Hannah's death and instead of telling Don this; instead of letting any of you in…I let it affect my job."

"Why didn't you tell any of us?" Liz asked confused.

"Because I started here as part of a cover for the CIA or at least that was my excuse. I couldn't find the words and it's not a part of my life I like to talk about or am proud of," Colby grimaced.

"I understand," Liz replied after a moment.

"Anyway," Colby said reluctantly, "when I got shot I basically lost who I was, my _identity_ and it _scared_ me," Colby coughed embarrassed. "In the small amount of time it takes to pull a trigger and then the seconds it took for that bullet to lodge itself in my spinal cord I was stripped of any dreams and aspirations I'd ever had. They were just gone and they were never coming back."

"I understand all that," Liz whispered bitterly, "trust me I've had all that rammed down my throat every day that you disappeared from and I don't care to hear it all again. You forget Colby, _I was there._ I held you while you lay dying in my arms. I have nightmares of you crashing in the ambulance…that you'd never comeback for me."

"I…I'm sorry. I've been selfish," Colby looked down at his lap ashamed. He was wearing clothes she'd never seen before. Just further proof that this was not her Colby. He was right he'd changed. She could see the difference in the way he sat, shoulders down, back straight. He was a survivor, a warrior and she…she couldn't forgive him. She had feared looking into his eyes and seeing someone new and she was right. There was something darker, haunted in them amongst the hope and pride. Did he feel the same looking into her tired ones?

"This was a mistake," Liz stood up and brushed past him, her heart breaking as her body awoke from the small contact and screamed out in wanting for the familiar weight of him. Knowing he was blowing it, Colby shouted the first thing that came to mind, anything that could get her to stop and come back to him.

"FROM THE MOMENT I LET THEM TELL MY BROTHER I WAS DEAD, I'VE BEEN RUNNING!" he screamed. When she stopped and turned around he continued, "I RAN LIZ! AND FOR _THAT_ I'M _SORRY_!" He shouted after her, his words almost whipped away by the wind.

"WHAT?" She asked in surprise at the pain in his voice.

"IRONIC I KNOW!" He screamed, "BUT I RAN LIZ AND I HAVEN'T STOPPED RUNNING. UNTIL RIGHT NOW!"

Unsure of what to say, Liz came back over to where Colby sat and looked at him for a moment. There was pain there, but underneath it all she could sense a grudging hope. Too scared to stay and listen to what he had to say but terrified of missing it, Liz sat back down on the step she'd previously abandoned.

"For the longest time I blamed everyone else," Colby practically whispered as he took in the rest of the suburban street obscured by the rain. "Sam, Don, SWAT, but it wasn't anyone else's fault, not even mine. It took me longer than I'm proud of to come to terms with that. Some might have called me overly bitter or resentful and they would have been right. All I knew is being a solider and FBI agent. I thought of myself as _invincible_ and because of that I somehow convinced myself that the chair made me less of a man. It's amazing how different everything looks from down here."

"I'm sorry Colby," Liz looked compassionately at him. Funnily enough he'd always feared seeing pity in those beautiful eyes of hers, but where he'd expected to see pity there was only love and understanding. Taking a chance, Colby took her hand in his shaky one and rubbed his thumb gently across her wrist making her shiver in return. It was something from their date he'd remembered and he'd loved the way she'd reacted, she on the other hand had loved the reassurance that it had given her and in the same moment she'd convinced herself that he'd never leave her. Then again…what did she know? Slipping her hand from his grasp, she looked away as a single tear streaked across her cheek.

Reaching up, Colby whipped the tear away. His face was inches from hers and although she'd paused in anticipation of a kiss, Colby reluctantly sat back and said, "Don't be sorry Liz, I was _wrong_, I thought the chair defined me, that it made me less of a man. When really it wasn't the chair that made me less, it was the way I acted after._ I hurt you Liz and for that I'm sorrier than you'll ever know._ I let my fear rule me, I thought of all of you as painful reminders of what I'd lost when I should have leant on you for support."

"I just wanted to help," Liz mumbled nervously, she was sure he'd been about to kiss her before that last speech and her brain could hardly focus on what he was saying. It was freezing outside and yet somehow Colby's words had warmed her frozen heart.

"I know you did and I should have let you," he whispered as if he'd picked up on the way her mouth itched for his. Embarrassed she looked away as her cheeks grew hot. "Liz, I also convinced myself along the way that you deserved more than this," he gestured to the chair.

"I didn't want more," Liz rushed to assure him, "I just wanted you."

"I'm glad you said that," Colby smiled genuinely, "Because it's freezing out here, and I've been sat waiting for you in the rain for hours. You sure have put in some strange hours of late," Colby grinned at her as she hopped off the step and looked in horror at his soaked clothes which clung uncomfortably tight in places.

"We have to get you inside!" Liz shrieked as she looked anxiously at her porch steps and then back to his chair, "My next door neighbours strong, he should be able to help. Wait right there and I'll just fetch him." Liz told him as she started to move towards the bungalow to their left.

"No need," Colby told her as he stood up and walked over to her, enveloping her in a hug.

She let out a muffled cry of alarm but his mouth was already on hers, crushing them in his need and want for her. Maybe he wasn't the Colby he was before the accident, but that didn't matter anymore. If anything he was stronger than she remembered and she admired him for the way he'd overcome it all. More than anything though she was just relieved he'd come back to her. She sighed with happiness and when he did eventually stop for air she asked, "How long?"

"Two weeks ago I got hit by a reversing car, ever since I've been in physiotherapy. Things are still stiff sometimes and I can't run like I used to but I don't need the chair anymore," he looked at her anxiously. He wasn't sure if he'd been wrong to pretend to still need the chair but he still felt insecure. He'd needed to know that she would have been happy with him, chair or no chair.

He'd also wanted her to know he'd come back for her because he loved her, and not just because he could walk again. He felt like two different people in and out of that chair. In many respects he felt it had been the man he'd been in the chair that had needed to apologise to her. He just hoped she wasn't too mad.

To his relief Liz laughed with disbelief and happiness and kissed him roughly on the mouth as the rain continued to pour. Her body arched to his and she felt his sudden need for her pressing into her side. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes," her voice purred with promise as she took his hand in hers and marvelled at the happiness she felt bursting through her veins.

Making sure to shut the door to Liz's car first, Colby picked Liz up and carried her to her front door. She marvelled at the new muscles that rippled in Colby's arms. The physiotherapy had done more than help him walk again and as her wet body clung to his, she found she was anything but cold.


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue**

*Six Months Later*

"Coffee for the road?" Liz asked Colby as he foraged through the fridge for something edible for breakfast.

"Please," he replied as he grasped some milk for cereal. It was his first day back on the force and though he refused to show it he was a little nervous. He'd had to jump through a lot of hoops and tests to prove he was as fit and able as he'd been before the shooting but he'd finally managed it, with Liz's help of course.

David had been a big support as well. Having re-joined the team whilst Colby was at Megan's, it was almost like he'd never left. He was happy again, after all they'd always been more like family than a team and Washington DC just hadn't been the same.

Thankfully for Colby, it had only taken a couple of free beers to get David to forgive him for running off, no long winded speeches about their feelings like with Liz. Well maybe one or two…

"You sure about this?" Liz asked nervously as he dug heartily into his cereal.

"I'm going to be fine," Colby told her reassuringly as he rested his free hand across the table on hers and he'd meant it too. The last six months had been the best of his life. Having come to terms with the ordeal he'd been put through, Colby felt stronger and ready for the road ahead.

"Good," she smiled at him as they grinned insanely across the table at one another. Having only been together for six months, Liz and he were still very much in the _honeymoon_ stage of their relationship. However, when he'd moved into her small bungalow he'd known it was the right move. Besides, Ian had made himself very comfortable in Colby's old flat whilst he'd been in Idaho and Washington.

It was strange. When Colby was first paralysed he'd been sad to lose the place. But now he wasn't anymore he was more than happy to let it go. Maybe because the old flat hadn't come with a Liz. Besides Ian needed a 'home away from tent' every now and again. It also meant that he would come to visit them more often because although Ian would never admit it, he was becoming quite attached to the idea of giving up fugitive recovery to live in a proper house and city.

"Jason called the other day," Colby suddenly told Liz with a mouth full of lucky charms.

"How is he?" Liz asked as she got up to prepare the coffee.

"He's doing well. Apparently so many people were fascinated with my return from the dead and then paralysis and miraculous recovery that the garage has been booked solid ever since!" Colby smiled at the memory of his brothers enthusiastic talks about renovation with the money he was pulling in. "They're all such gossips in Winchester, but hey…whatever helps the garage is good." Colby grinned at Liz's back.

"Your half of your mother's house must be a big help too," Liz said as she reached for the coffee filters on the top shelf. Usually Colby would help but he was too distracted by the way Liz's skirt slipped up her bronzed thighs.

"It was the least I could do," Colby replied solemnly, remembering his and Jason's conversation in the cemetery by their mother's gravestone all those months before. "He wouldn't just accept it as a gift so I thought investing it in the garage would be a nice way to make amends." Colby admitted gravely.

"It was," Liz assured him as she came around the table to sit in his lap whilst the coffee percolated. "But sooner or later you're going to have to realise he's already forgiven you. It's only you who still thinks you have any amends to make. That's why he wouldn't take your share of the money and why he's treating it strictly as a business arrangement."

That was another thing to come out of the accident that Colby was grateful for. He had his brother back, who was happily continuing his torrid affair with Adriana behind Julio's back, although Julio had admitted to Colby over the phone a few months back that he'd known for quite some time. Either way it looked promising for his brother to finally settle down. As Colby had learnt with Liz, why waste time?

Colby kissed her gently, in what he meant to be a quick kiss but turned hotter when Liz slipped her hand under Colby's shirt and gently stroked its way down his chest.

"Do we have time?" He asked her seriously, all thought of his brother pushed from his mind.

"No," she smiled regretfully as she got up and moved back over to the coffee machine by the fridge. "Both times this morning will have to sustain you until we get home later," Liz winked over her shoulder.

"Spoil sport," Colby grinned inanely to no one in particular.

"What time's Don expecting us?" Liz asked suddenly as she glanced down at her watch and frowned at the time, her mind firmly back on the job.

"Ten," Colby sighed as he got up and began to wash his bowl in the sink. "They only got back from their honeymoon the other day," Colby grinned. "If it went well he might be late," coming up behind her, Colby squeezed Liz's waist as he slipped past her to where his gun and badge lay on the side table.

Don and Robin had finally tied the knot in what could only be described as a breath-taking ceremony a month earlier. Their vows had been perfect, the reception romantic and comfortable, followed by a long relaxing honeymoon. The AD hadn't been too happy but what with the amount of extra hours Don had been putting in in those two months after Colby's accident, he hadn't really had cause to complain. Besides David had stepped in in his absence and sealed it for him.

Meanwhile Charlie and Amita, returned to America over the summer, much to the relief of Alan, Don, and Larry, the latter of which was looking forward to a long break from the FBI. Alan of course was ecstatic to learn upon their return home that Anita was pregnant and that he was finally getting his wish of a grandchild. What with Don and Robin trying to get pregnant as well, it didn't feel like it'd be long before Alan would be drowning in grandchildren. Smiling to himself, Colby put his gun and holster on, followed by his badge, which he slipped in his back pocket.

As for himself, Colby didn't like to dwell on the shooting too much these days. He was finally happy. He'd somehow managed to forge a new life from the old one and this one seemed better than ever. The FBI councillor had also been satisfied with Colby's progress and had finally signed him off for active duty.

In many respects it had been a long road back. From his initial depression to his overcoming his fear, but Colby felt he was finally ready to get back into work. He'd been bugging Liz for weeks about the different cases the team were currently working on and if Liz was bothered by it, she didn't let on. Looking at her pouring the coffee into two warm thermos's Colby felt a rush of love constrict his chest. Liz had been there for every step of his mission to re-join the FBI and not once had she said he couldn't do it. If she had any lingering fears of him being hurt again, she hadn't mentioned them.

Spying the drawing Erin had given him all those months ago, Colby picked it up and looked at it again. He hadn't felt like a hero then, he still didn't. But he certainly felt it was something to aspire to when he finally got his first official case. Moving over to the fridge Colby pinned the drawing up with a fridge magnet Liz had gotten from a holiday in Miami.

That done, Colby breathed in happily and took his flask of coffee from Liz as she moved away to put her own gun and holster on. Watching her, he felt confident that he could finally move on with the next chapter of his life. Which he hoped would start with Liz agreeing to his marriage proposal later that evening. He wasn't too worried that she'd turn him down, but his palms did sweat at the thought of the speech he'd written and tucked safely into his suit jacket with the ring.

Going over to the unsuspecting Liz, Colby kissed her passionately. "Let's go," he smiled lopsidedly as he took her hand in his and walked confidently towards the door. "I'll drive," he said enthusiastically as he took the keys from the little dish he'd brought with him when he'd moved in and sat confidently down in the driver's seat. Being able to drive had been one of the many things he'd resented people for whilst paralysed. Now he drove whenever he got the opportunity. Fortunately for him Liz didn't mind being chauffeured around the city.

So finally, after months of anticipation Colby put his black Ford in gear and started the long journey to the FBI building and the rest of his life.

-The End.

**Authors Note:**

I would just like to say thank you to everyone who left a review. They were all very much appreciated.

I started this story last year, but when my beta had to stop due to work conflictions, I dropped the project after chapter seven. Finally this year with my 10,000 word dissertation out of the way I started to think of this story once more. I basically decided to post the seven chapters for the hell of it just to gage the kind of reaction it'd get and to see if it was worth continuing.

Your kind words and reviews were what gave me the confidence to finish, so to all I extend my deepest thanks. X


End file.
